Going Forward
by Rap541
Summary: Sequel to Going Native. Its a few years later, lets see what happened
1. Chapter 1

Going Forward

She looked at the paper work strewn about her desk and sighed. There were times when she missed the day to day drudgery of simply following orders. Things were easier when you were a foot soldier. You did as you were told, and you didn't have to worry about anything but following orders.

The news coming from Starfleet and the Federation was… disquieting. It was made worse knowing that her people had so little voice in the decisions being made. If she had her druthers, the wormhole connecting the Federation to the Gamma Quadrant would be closed and destroyed, if possible. Far too much nastiness seemed to be on the other side and if she had learned anything in the five years she had been a Federation citizen, it was that the Federation had a tendency to stick their noses into places that didn't like be bothered. The Jem'Hader sounded like tough bastards and Starfleet, in their wisdom, just kept poking the Dominion with a stick. She didn't like it. Her people had been through enough. They were finally settling in, feeling safe.

The door slid open. "Commander Six," the Eight, Lt. Amy Eight, said, her voice filled with worry, "We just got a communication from Deep Space Nine. There's an invasion force coming through the wormhole."

Commander Natalie Six rose to her feet in a fluid motion. "Understood. Set condition one in the basestar." As the Eight turned and almost ran out the door, Natalie wondered if the ugly ball of fear in her stomach was how the humans had felt when they had attacked so long ago.

She strode into the control center, taking great care to not look frightened or startled. All models had their weaknesses, and while the Eights preferred military life over colony pursuits, they tended to panic. "I need a sitrep."

"The Cardassians have thrown in with the Dominion," Lt. Eight said. The other Eights nodded, and Three and Leoben nodded.

"We're too close to Bajor," Five said. "It's clear that the Cardassians plan to retake the planet and with the Dominion on their side, it will happen."

"And we're right in the middle," Natalie said, mentally picturing the maps and the Cardassian ships. Cardassians wanted to be major players, they had made overtures when Cylonia was first colonized four years earlier. The Federation had increased patrols for a time, and she knew that the Federation wasn't just watching the Cardassians. Unlike the colonials, who were welcomed into the Federation fold with smiles and supplies, the Cylons were viewed more suspiciously. She didn't blame the Federation for that. There was a lot of ugly history to get over.

"We should call for assistance from Starfleet," Leoben said. Even as he said it, he looked defeated, and Three was shaking her head as well.

"The Federation's first priority will be assisting Bajor," Three said. " They'll want to maintain control of their station and assist their allies. We're a backwater world with low population." She looked grimly at Six. "We can ask for help, there's no reason not to but if this gets as bad as it could, they'll just write us off. Look at the colonies they simply handed to the Cardassians in the name of keeping the peace."

"And there is the FTL drive to consider," Simon said suddenly.

Natalie nodded. The FTL drive was a sore point in their relations with the Federation. The colonials had gotten exclusive research rights. Even though the Cylon FTL was better, the Federation and Starfleet had balked at the idea of having a hybrid control a large ship. It was a form of slavery, never mind that hybrids were bred from the tanks for one purpose only. The Federation allowed the hybrid in the basestar only because, as they put it, the damage was already done, but had no interest in pursuing the technology, not when the colonial version was more aesthetically pleasing to their morals. There were a small group of Cylons at the research facility on New Atlantis and the colony did receive a fair share of the royalties but the main research was being done on New Atlantis with the inferior system. The problem was that Cardassians had a tendency to weaponize anything and the same nanites that allowed them to download their memories and resurrect could be programmed to allow any Cylon to act as a hybrid. And she doubted the Cardassians or the Dominion would have any scruples about enslaving the entire colony into FTL drive computers.

"We can't expect help," she said to the others. "This is an unprecedented situation for the Federation and we are a minor colony. We don't have weapons that can fight the Cardassians with." She took a deep breath. "I want a communication line to the civilian government. We're going to evacuate."

"Evacuate?" That was Cavil and he stepped forward angrily. "You want to evacuate the entire colony? Where will we go?"

She put her hand into the stream of data and brought up the star maps for everyone to look at. "The Cardassians are bypassing us right now because this is a minor colony, but make no mistake, they will come here, and we can't fight them and win. We're human in their eyes, and that makes us next to nothing. They will come here, and they will subjugate us easily. Think about the children. Do you want our children raised as slaves to Cardassians or worse the Dominion?" She straightened her back and removed her hand from the data stream. After a long moment Cavil nodded.

"We can fit everyone on the basestar," he said after a moment of thought. "But the question remains, where will we go?"

"Deeper into Federation territory," Six answered back quickly. "We're Federation citizens and by their standards, we're human. The children certainly are." She shook off her worry in an instant. "I want everyone on board this ship as soon as possible. I want anyone who can fly a heavy raider moving. This needs to be fast. I want all of the planet side computers destroyed and any ship that can't fly needs to be destroyed."

"We still have nukes," Leoben said as the Eight went to the com panel. "Anything left behind could be destroyed."

"Make it ready." To the Eight, she added, "Tell them to leave everything and just get on board the ships. We have replicators." The Eight nodded.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Cavil said suddenly. His eyes twinkled maliciously. "We're running away from our colony with nothing but the shirts on our backs."

"That isn't lost on me," she said curtly. "At least we have somewhere to go, and we can save everyone." And if there was a part of her that wondered if it was their just desserts for the attack on the colonies, she intended to keep that to herself.

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

&Earlier&

Lee Adama looked up as the sound of children playing wafted through the open window. He could see by the sudden smiles around the large table that he wasn't the only one distracted by the school children playing. When things got a little bigger, the planetary government was going to need a separate building, but even with the colony growing, they still had plenty of room in the three story building that had been one of the first put up when the colony was established. He had seen the plans, hell, he had helped make the plans for the city. Once the government outgrew the facility, the building would be turned over to the school, which he assumed would also need more space. In fact, judging by the baby boom, the Wiliam Keikeya School was going to need to expand soon

"So we're going to approve these twenty applications for immigration and settlement," Laura Roslin said quickly, obviously drawing everyone's attention back to the work at hand. She turned to Jacob Mueller, the Quorum member who had brought the proposal. "I think we all agree that we still need skilled outsiders and the previous immigrants have fit in well." Lee and the other Quorum members nodded in agreement. Immigration to New Atlantis was still strictly controlled and he didn't see that restriction being lifted until most of the new generation was old enough to vote, but they did allow it. It had been necessary, to get the skilled workers they needed, and there were almost three thousand new colonists, immigrants to the new colony. Mueller, born on Alpha Centauri, was the Quorum delegate that represented what the media called the 13th tribe. Lee was already realizing that the tribal system was going to be awkward at best to recreate. There were already rumblings from the Sagiterron and Gemonese quarters that the system unfairly favored people in less populous tribes but Roslin had managed to keep them quiet by harping on tradition. Meanwhile they were both working on getting the future government designed to be more representative and less like a town hall meeting combined with an unwieldy ancient system of tribal affiliations that hadn't made a lot of sense before the Cylon attack and were hell to work with now that so many people had intermingled. There had been a lot of cross tribal marriages. Most of the people, even in the more populous tribes, wanted something different. So did he, but Laura was surprisingly obstinate about revamping and removing tribe affiliation. He wanted a system based on where people lived in the new colony and he had a feeling he'd get it eventually. He had the backing of several of the Quorum, the younger members who had been voted in since the settlement, and he also suspected Roslin was holding on to the old system only because one of her hot button topics was preserving what was left of the Twelve Colonies.

Which was fine, for now. Roslin had made it clear that she didn't plan to change the provisional government structure, but he also knew she didn't plan to stay president of New Atlantis forever. One of the perks of being Vice President was having the inside scoop. She was, Lee realized sometime early, only going to stay in office until she was certain that the new colony was stable. The time for change would come, and he sensed that it was going to be sooner than later. She liked his ideas for the government, and he suspected she just wanted her own time tidily finished before he proposed changes.

"We have two more things on the agenda," Roslin sad as she consulted her computer padd. "Admiral Adama is reporting that the refit of the Galactica is almost finished." Lee struggled not to grin. The Galactica was, by Starfleet standards, something of an antiquated behemoth. They were still under a prohibition against weapons access, it would be another five years before that restriction was lifted. The Admiral however had insisted on an overhaul. Since the colonial military worked closely with the New Atlantis FTL Research Institute, and used the Galactica as a base for the research into the FTL drive, the Galactica hadn't been retired. It was functioning as more of a mobile space station, with crews going to and from the small Starfleet station that had been established as part of their treaty agreement. As part of that agreement there were three older starships assigned. Older class ships, with crews that weren't as sharp as the crew of the Enterprise, but when the probationary period was up, the ships were to be handed over to the New Atlantean military. Right now they functioned as training ships, letting the colonial military get the feel of the new weapons and technology without simply giving them the technology. The refit had been contentious because people wanted newer ships with Starfleet weapons, but it had passed and he had to admit, he was relieved to know it was almost done. The complaining from the opposition would stop on that point.

"It's nice to know that this particular drain on the economy is almost done," Tom Zarek muttered. Lee rolled his eyes. Tom had been against the refit from the beginning, labeling it a waste of credits. Fortunately the colony was very flush. They were actually turning away some immigration applicants. If they simply let in everyone who wanted to live on New Atlantis, the original population would be overwhelmed. It was another sore point of Zarek's, since he viewed new citizens as new members of his voting block. It was amusing because Zarek had a tendency to say his nasty comments just loud enough to be heard but not loud enough for the official record.

"Yes, Tom," Roslin said, her voice taking on that tone they all knew so well. "We're all aware of your views and you are welcome to again propose cutting military spending. As it happens, Admiral Adama reports that with the refit, when the time comes, it will be relatively easy to arm the Galactica with Federation weapons, which means we won't have to be so dependant on Aurora Station and its Starfleet personnel if there is an attack. With all the talk about the Klingons, the Cardassians and now this Dominion, I doubt the people want to stand down militarily but you are welcome to propose it." She waited a moment and turned the paper on her clipboard. "The last thing is Aurora Station. As you all know, Lt. Cmdr Grossen has been commanding the station while Starfleet decides who will assume command. I am pleased to inform you all that a new station commander has been chosen." She smiled slightly. "Commander Felix Gaeta has been assigned. He'll be bringing a new Starfleet prototype out and will assume command of the Starfleet personnal assigned. Of course we could protest….?"

Lee noted almost everyone around the table smiled at the idea. Mueller seemed neutral, which wasn't a surprise. Most of the Terran immigrants, even off worlders like Mueller, didn't care for the religious regard Felix Gaeta was held in on New Atlantis. Ironically, he knew Laura Roslin didn't like it either, but the Federation required religious freedom and it wouldn't do to stamp down on the new temple goers. Zarek of course looked almost apoplectic.

"Felix Gaeta?" the older man snipped. "Well, that's wonderful. Starfleet is certainly sending us the best and brightest."

Lee wasn't surprised at how the Quorum bristled at that , despite the problems it presented. There were a lot of reasons to not be enthralled with Starfleet's choice of station commander despite the general good will Gaeta had with the colony, not the least of which was the influence Gaeta had over the average citizen. In fairness, over the last few years, the man rarely said a word about politics or voiced an opinion on anything volatile. Gaeta very rarely said anything official. No doubt what frustrated Zarek was that Gaeta, when pressed, generally came down on either the side of the Federation, or of Bill Adama or Laura Roslin. When he didn't beg off the question with a quick comment how he didn't live on New Atlantis so he couldn't have a relevant opinion. Gaeta had a way of saying nothing that Lee realized was almost an art form.

Then again, as his wife often said, Felix Gaeta was nothing if not a sneak and a weasel.

"Are you voicing an official complaint, Mr. Zarek?" Roslin's voice was pleasant but cutting.

"No," Zarek shot back, just as cutting. "I'm just not shocked that Starfleet is sending an officer to run Aurora Station of his… shall we say, challenged background?" He held up his own computer padd. "I trust you've been following his career?"

An old trick that didn't work as well as Tom thought, Lee realized. He understood the game, Tom was voicing his displeasure openly but the transcripts of the Quorum meeting didn't reflect tone, just the words said. He was forgetting that the new technology made it easy for all public meetings to be stored for viewing. Lee had no doubt that someone in the media would find the time to watch the meeting on a view screen and if they wanted to create a fuss, it would end up on the weekly political commentary vids. He wondered why Zarek was taking such a risk. Badmouthing the man that had saved them all several times over didn't go over well with the general public. On the other hand, Zarek wasn't a political yahoo or has been. The man was sharp, if more of an opportunist than his stated philosophies implied. And, Lee's own political senses had sharpened enough to wonder if Tom was already past it. The new colony was paradise compared to their lives in the fleet, and even the disenfranchised, the felons and the Sagiterrons had good jobs and nice lives. Their children went to the same school as the children of Caprican politicians and the Earth born children of Starfleet officers. The teachers at the school were either open minded or from Earth and that meant that children of the perceived lesser colonies weren't disregarded. In ten to twenty years, Tom's rhetoric was going to fall on ears that simply couldn't understand why. The man's base followers had slowly been deserting as it became clear that Roslin's policies were in line with the Federation's humanitarian views. It was hard to be the head of the oppressed minority when the oppressed minority didn't consider itself oppressed anymore. Tom Zarek, he realized suddenly, for all that he had been a pioneer as a young man, wasn't changing with the times.

"I have," Roslin retorted. "I'm not sure what your concern is. Commander Gaeta was promoted recently and has been working on several starship prototypes. If anything we should pleased that Starfleet is assigning an officer who is familiar with the colony and our concerns."

Zarek smirked at her. "Considering the views of the current station commander, I suspect assignment to Aurora Base is…. Shall we say, not a plum assignment?"

"Actually," Lee said, hoping to diffuse the valid point Zarek had made, "I understand that Cmdr. Gaeta requested the assignment because his wife wanted their children to get some exposure to New Atlantis since they are dual citizens here."

He could see that it took the wind out of Zarek's comment, and Zarek saw it too. The man's smile didn't change but his eyes hardened. "Well," he said easily, "you do have the inside track on information, but we can't all be married to the savior's sister now can we?"

Lee started to stand up, only to find Laura Roslin quickly pressing her hand down on his knee. "Tom, do you want to voice a complaint with the officer Starfleet has assigned or not? If you do, speak up. If you don't, then say so. I'd like to close the session on time for a change."

Clever, Lee thought gratefully. Zarek now had to state *something* to the official record. He either had to go on record with having a problem with Felix Gaeta, or he had to say he had no complaint. And Tom knew it. The smirk left his face as he attempted to stare down Roslin. " I have no *official* objection, Madame President."

"Good," she said sweetly. "This meeting is adjourned." Lee wasn't surprised to see Zarek grab his paperwork and padd and leave in a rush, followed very quickly by Erica Janne, the Gemonese delegate. Coincidence or a hint at a possible alliance, he wondered. Unlike her predecessor, Janne was less bound to the literal religious beliefs that the Gemonese colonials held. The Sagiterrons and Gemonese had the largest number of survivors. In popular voting initiatives, each group was a formidable voting block. And Zarek had been talking up Mueller as well, and the Earth delegate tended to waffle.

He began to gather up his own things but a look from Roslin told him to remain seated while everyone else filed out. "That was nicely done, Madame President."

Roslin shrugged. "Tom's problem is that he's like your father in one very important way. He's much better when he's got his back up against the wall, fighting against impossible odds. It's a gift. When times are hard, he's a good leader, even an inspiring one. And when there isn't a crisis, Tom gets bored and makes trouble. And gets into trouble, so that he can have a crisis to work with." She paused. "He was trying to get a rise out of you, and it worked. You married Serena Gaeta McHenry and that's a problem. You are linked by marriage to Felix Gaeta, and that will both help and hinder your career as a politician here."

"Zarek was just being an ass about Gaeta because Gaeta being assigned here is going to increase the religious talk." Which was a pain in the ass but not impossible to deal with. "Actually, I think having Gaeta around will help that. Away, he's some sort of hero figure with godlike powers but here, talking to people, enrolling his kids in school? He turns into a regular person again and the religious element calms down. People don't treat Serena like a sacred object because they've gotten to know her."

Of course, unlike Gaeta, Serena had a tendency to laugh at worshippers, and point out the obvious flaws in their beliefs. But he supposed it was that or just ignore it. Most people just ignored the small but vocal group of temple goers that focused on Gaeta.

"I agree," Roslin said after a moment, "but you're a political player now, Lee. You're not just Lee Adama, you're the son of Admiral Adama, the hero who saved us, you're married to the sister of the Earth man who led us to safety, your own record as a viper pilot and commander is impressive, you were our first diplomat on Earth…. People are going to attack you over these things. Tom Zarek won't be the last to suggest that you married Serena for power. And it is power, Lee. Tom knows it. He also knows that his power in the community is waning. In just a few years, most of the votes will be coming from people who vaguely remember Tom as Baltar's vice president when they were living in cold tents, terrorized by Cylons. They're not going to care about his career in the Twelve Colonies, or that he was a revolutionary fighting for freedoms in a system they don't really understand or relate to. It's already happening." She gestured to the table of thirteen seats. "It's only a matter of time before the tribal affiliations become a thing of the past. There's already been so many cross marriages… twenty years from now, being Caprican or Aerelon is going to be something quaint that elderly parents bring up."

"You sound disappointed," Lee said after a moment.

"I am, just a bit." She sighed. "There were things about the Twelve Colonies that needed to change, Lee, I don't deny that, but there was a lot of good there and there's not a day that I don't miss Caprica. Here, New Atlantis, it's beautiful because it's something I helped make, but it's not Caprica. It is something I have to accept. You're younger, Lee…. Not young enough to just move on… but most of your adult life was spent in the fleet, fighting a war. It isn't the same for you. Tom knows that, that as time moves on, the people of the colony will be less and less connected to the past. So he will attack you where ever he can, and that includes your marriage and your children. You have to find a way to throttle back your emotions on that point and remember that it's not personal. Tom Zarek doesn't give a damn who you married, or whether you're in love. He only mentioned your wife because he knew it would anger you. You need to let that sort of comment roll off you like water. Tom doesn't play that game with me, because he knows it won't work. Because I don't react to it. That's the free advice." Her voice took on a more brisk tone. "Now, what is Tom talking about? I don't spend every day scanning the news for mentions of Felix Gaeta but at last check he seemed to be doing well."

"Officially he is doing well. He was promoted to commander and while Aurora Base is a small starbase, it's still a command and there's plenty of mid level officers in Starfleet who would be happy to take it. It's a stepping stone to a starship command. Zarek is off base suggesting that Starfleet is sending a disgraced officer out to exile." He stopped.

"And unofficially?" Roslin asked.

"His two papers on the FTL drive and on Starfleet's general readiness level to handle an attack from outside forces are considered must reads by some high level officers. Captain Picard, for example. But that's not a majority view." Lee hesitated. "I don't know the details, all right? Yes, I am married to his sister and she loves him a great deal, but it's not as though they share secrets."

"But?"

He hesitated again. "Apparently, while Starfleet and the Federation has some high minded ideals, in practice there is as much jealousy and petty behavior that you'd expect in the average school yard."

Roslin smiled slightly. "Would it shock you to know that I have suspected that for some time? The Federation is not perfect by any means. It occurred to me, once the rush wore off, that Gaeta was very lucky that we made contact with Captain Picard and not a less flexible thinker." She leaned back in her chair. "You don't want to know how close he was to getting a welcome home prison sentence."

Lee nodded. It wasn't something that was talked about, but between Kara, Serena, his father, and Roslin herself, he knew enough pieces of the story to know the next thing he was going to say had some truth to it. "There are people in Starfleet who believe he got away with a Prime Directive violation. According to Serena, that means it's unlikely he'll ever be given a ship to command and that does mean his career is effectively over. The people who backed his research got him assigned to Aurora Base so that he's in the right place when the minority that backs him gets more control and can get him back in favor. It's very political, made worse because of his background." As Roslin raised her eyebrows in surprise, he was quick to add, "Not the time in the colonies. There are people who don't trust him because he's not fully human and the parts that aren't human are fairly scary."

"Officially there's no discrimination in the Federation," Roslin mused, "but then officially, there was never any legal difference between a Sagiterron and a Caprican. In practice though, and considered Earth's historical wars, it's understandable." She tapped up an article on her padd. "Whenever a Federation representative gets too condescending about our views on artificial intelligence, I always point them back to their draconian laws on genetic enhancement. It occurred to me that Sophia Gaeta was a little old to be just a captain until I considered how difficult it must be to get promoted when a lot of your colleagues are raised to consider your abilities monstrous."

"It was one reason that Serena left Starfleet," Lee admitted. "That and she wasn't very interested in a command and her specialty of anthropology is more human focused than most. Zarek has been chatting up Cmdr. Grossen." Grossen had assumed command of Aurora Base one month earlier when Cmdr. Rosenfeld died unexpectedly.

"Grossen is an arrogant bastard who isn't happy to be here," Roslin said quickly. "I know Rosenfeld reprimanded him at least once for his comments. He's also not enthralled with the FTL research… which means he's probably in the Starfleet majority that disagrees with Gaeta's research papers. Which explains how Zarek got the inside dirt on the situation. I don't think this will garner Tom any votes right away, but we both know he loves to stir things up. At least the Admiral will have someone he can work with."

Lee nodded but he had his doubts. Cmdr. Rosenfeld, a good leader, had crossed swords with Bill Adama and the colonial military a few times. She had been strict about the regulations, not inflexible but not a pushover either. Grossen was inflexible, and an ass to boot, but Lee didn't think that Gaeta was going to be a pliant yes man. He had read the two papers the man had written. Both were daring, and politely scathing on some of Starfleet's war policies. Bill Adama wasn't getting back the carefully polite junior officer who he'd known, he was getting a new Starfleet commander, who wasn't going to nod and agree to whatever the colonial military wanted. Which, coupled with Zarek already leading the charge to harp on Gaeta's competence, and the weird religious cult that would likely stage a parade at the news, meant that Gaeta taking command of the base wasn't as great news as he thought.

Laura Roslin was right. He still had a lot to learn about politics.


	3. Chapter 3

It looked good, Bill Adama thought as he looked at the Galactica's landing bay. He looked at the uniformed crew working in front of the Raptor, and as they spotted him and began dashing about, for just a moment, every hair on his body seemed to stand on end. It had been just like this, he realized. The day of the Cylon attack, and every sense he had burned. He took a deep breath and let it out as he stepped over to the small work crew. It helped that they mostly had different faces. Still, as Chief Tyrol stepped forward, he felt that odd frisson of fear, of something not right.

There were twenty full time psychologists and psychiatrists in the colony, and they all were busy. Post traumatic stress was a fact of life, but he didn't think that he was one of the worst sufferers. A twinge here and there, that was just too many bad memories to avoid them all, but he was hardly in bad shape. They were lucky that there hadn't been more hard core breakdowns. As it was, the hospital had a permanent psychiatric ward and even Federation medicine wasn't helping the worst cases. There had been a rash of suicide attempts in the first few months of the colony settlement, fortunately few had been successful. Survivor guilt, the psychologists said.

Chief Tyrol snapped to attention, the orange coverall surprisingly crisp and clean. Both jarring and familiar. "Would you like to inspect the deck, sir?"

"Everything seems to be in order, Chief." He did want to talk with Tyrol though, so it was convenient. "Walk with me for a moment, Tyrol."

"Yes sir." The petite woman came up beside him and began matching his stride. He waited until he was certain the rest of the crew couldn't hear. "There is a position opening up planet side. The airbase needs a new ground crew officer. They need someone smart enough to master the Starfleet tech, and who can organize the landing field. I'm recommending you for it, Cally."

"That's… thank you sir," she said after a moment. "But I'm not an officer."

"Not until the promotion is finalized, no," he said easily. "But I was planning to sign the paperwork and announce it once you accepted the offer." It was rewarding to see the young woman smile. "You deserve it, Cally."

"Thank you, sir," she said again. "But there's still so much work to do here."

"The refit is almost done. You'll have about two weeks to recommend the new head deck chief. And you'll be back for reserve training on the standard schedule, so if there's a serious problem you can still be consulted." And he suspected that any consults would be over the new Federation tech. Cally Tyrol was in the portion of the crew that had adapted well to all of the changes. That was the reason he was promoting her. The probation period for their membership in the Federation would end in five years, and the fleet would need officers who had mastered the new skills.

She nodded, and then she spotted something, over his shoulder. "Hey you three!" she shouted, her voice suddenly firm. "I see you there, and I know what you're doing! Get back to work!" Bill turned just in time to see three orange clad workers scurry away, pushing mop buckets and looking chagrinned. He was pleased that Cally kept her face firm until the crewmen were away, before she smiled with amusement.

"The new ones don't realize," she said quickly, "that I know all the ways to hide and goof off on this deck. That little alcove is where Prosna, Socinus, and I would hide from the chief when he was looking for people to scrub the deck." Her good natured smile faded suddenly, and a tremble washed over her body. She shook it off almost instantly. "That seems like such a long time ago… They'd be laughing over the idea of my getting commissioned."

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

She nodded. "It is, sir. And thank you."

"You've come a long way from when you started here as a deckhand. We need people like you in the fleet. In a few years, its going to be a whole different game of triad." He was feeling himself, more and more. "I'll be making the official announcement later today. I want your list of candidates for promotion to your position on my desk in an hour."

She nodded and returned to the main deck. She'll be a good officer, he mused, and he suspected they were going to need good officers in the next few years. He didn't like the reports he had been reading from Starfleet. He was grateful to Starfleet and the Federation, but that didn't mean he was in love with everything they did. The colony definitely had some converts to Federation thinking, and he knew that was only going to continue. The new colonists, from Earth and her colonies, brought their children, and that meant the few children that had survived the Second Exodus were surrounded by classmates who knew nothing but the Federation. He wasn't so convinced that closing his eyes and hoping that Starfleet and the Federation knew best was the best way to handle things.

Musing about the Federation reminded him that it was almost time for the squads that were training with Starfleet to return. One of many things that had changed on the Galactica was that she now had several transporter rooms. Which was turning into a source of irritation between him and the current starbase commander. The transporters were energy hogs. A wonderful tool for emergencies and fast transport, but a lot of the crew simply wasn't comfortable with it, and the energy they required had dramatically lengthened the refit. Rosenfeld had been fine with allowing Raptors and shuttles to move the training squads but Grossen insisted that they use the transporters. It was irritating, made worse by the condescending air Gerald Grossen used when he spoke.

He nodded to the transporter chief, a new designation in the colonial fleet. The woman nodded back. Chief Christensen was actually from Earth, a Starfleet veteran who had brought her family out to New Atlantis. She was helping train some of the others and had agreed with his annoyance over Grossen insisting on transports instead of Raptors. Because it made the crew nervous, he liked to be on hand for the occasional transport.

And he could tell by the frowns on everyone and the cold scowl on Major Kara Thrace's face that it had been a bad day on the training ships. She jumped off the pad. "I'm glad to see you, sir. We should talk."

Judging by the grumbling, it was going to be good. He gave her a look and she nodded immediately. It pleased him. She was getting better at not letting her mood show on her face. As the acting XO, she needed to have self control. The walk to his quarters also took the edge off. "So," he said as she closed the hatch to his office, "how was the training exercise?"

"What training exercise? Cmdr. Grossen put all the training squads on maintenance duty. He feels that Cmdr. Rosenfield rushed us through, and we all need to get reacquainted with how real technology works. Apparently that involves acting as the janitorial staff."

"He's exceeding his authority." Which was a problem. But if he had Grossen's measure, the bastard would have some official justification, which meant a lengthy back and forth argument with the nearest ranking Starfleet official. It also occurred to him why Grossen was acting poorly. "I could complain now, or we can wait for the new commander to arrive."

Kara's eyes suddenly gleamed with amusement. He was pleased. She had understood immediately. "Thank gods. I was afraid they were gonna leave that prick in command permanently. No wonder he was frothing at the mouth. Do we know who we're getting?"

"Commander Felix Gaeta." He could see she wasn't surprised. Neither was he, but he was curious as to how she would react. "What are your feelings on that? After all, you'll be the one working with him once I retire." He poured them both a glass of ambrosia.

"Retirement?" Kara snorted as she tipped her glass back. "I don't plan to kill Gaeta if that's what you're worried about. We're good. He and I have actually been working on some new fighter designs. I also read his recent research papers."

"So what is your opinion?" She was shaping up well, he realized. Tigh really wanted to step down. The man had surprised him, that was the truth, by not simply crawling into a bottle once the danger had passed, but the Federation's synthehol had stopped that particular spiral downward. Tigh ran the groundside base for the most part, and was experimenting with establishing a vinyard and winery, of all things.

Kara sipped the beverage. "I know Dee wants to come back, and while I am sure President Roslin is already worried about the religious issues, I don't think it's the issue she thinks. I think Gaeta isn't the sort to pull the asshole move that Grossen did today, and he's definitely going to be more sympathetic to the colonial point of view. But…"

Adama waited. Kara Thrace had a temper, and was often too brash for her own good, but she was also a near genius tactician and strategist.

"The big problem is that Gaeta *is* Starfleet, and we all need to remember that. Including you, sir." Kara swirled her drink around. "He's not Lt. Gaeta, your tactical officer in the CIC. In a lot of very important ways, he never was. Now he's going to be in charge of the starbase and that means he's going to cross you at some point. And because all of his Earth buddies suspect him of being too sympathetic to us, he's going to cross you a lot. Not over big things… Like I said, he's never going to pull that petty crap Grossen does, but he is going to dot every i and cross every t over regulations and not give an inch on the weapons clause. Which I think you realized."

He had, and it pleased him that she had summed it up so easily. It confirmed the decision he had made earlier. "Saul wants to step down as executive officer. He's getting older and feels he can better help the fleet by commanding the ground base. Within the next few months I'm going to be reorganizing the command line. You're in line for his spot. If you're not interested, you need to say so now." Helo was next up, and more likely to say yes, but Kara was the better candidate. He liked Karl Agathon as a man, and Agathon was steadier and possibly brighter than Thrace, but she had the fire and Helo did not. Helo was also rather in love with Starfleet and the Federation. He and Sharon both had been away, on Earth, several times, taking courses at Starfleet. His recommendation, if Kara chose to take it, would be to put Helo in her executive officer spot, but that was still well off.

She thought over it carefully. He could tell it wasn't an unexpected surprise. " You want me to take command when you retire. You know I won't keep things the same."

"I expect that. We are moving forward into a different world. I think you have what we need. I'll warn you, it means less flying time and less time with your family, but it also means that you'll shape our future." He waited.

Kara took another sip of her drink. "You're lucky," she said finally, a slight smile coming to her face, "that Sam is a better father than I am a mother, and that I still get flying time. I accept."


	4. Chapter 4

"Ms. Morales, open a channel to DS34 ." Gaeta waited patiently while the com officer signaled the star base. He kept his expression cool and calm, but inside, he was worried. It was worry, and honest fear, that had led him to write the papers on the readiness of Starfleet. He knew he had done the right thing, and he understood that he wasn't being punished. On the contrary, while the people who agreed with his findings were in the minority in Starfleet, they were a powerful minority. The assignment, complete with the command of one of the new prototype ships, was only a punishment on the surface. It was a command, and part of a concession the more open minded in the admiralty had pushed for. The ships had been developed, and why not use them, instead of letting them lie half finished in the shipyards.

It was foolish that the high command had slowed and even stopped the development of warships, and had allowed what fighting ability in the remaining ships to rot. The Borg might have been neutralized, although he had his doubts on that, but there were still threats in the galaxy. It was all fine and well to want to explore and discover, but the reality was that the Federation was ignoring the fact that there were threats outside its borders. There were a lot of threats, and they had been rolling the dice for the last two hundred years, lucky that every time a serious crisis came, the Federation managed to survive because a hero bucked the odds and pulled the situation out of the fire. Eventually there wasn't going to be a Kirk, or a Picard, in exactly the right place and time to save them. There was nothing wrong with having some actual warships in Starfleet. Having a ship that could fight, that was dedicated to fighting was good sense in a sector of space hemmed by Romulans and Cardassians, and now the Dominion from the Delta Quadrant. It wasn't a betrayal of Starfleet's ideals. It was time for the Federation to grow up and realize that there were threats out there.

He wasn't the only officer heading out to command a star base, and handed the command a prototype escort frigate. Captain Benjamin Sisko had taken the first production prototype of the Defiant class out to Deep Space Nine a few months earlier. The Surprise had some minor tweaks in the design as a result, and it was amusing how it had been arranged for several more, all slightly different so-called prototypes to be "finished". It wasn't enough, in his opinion, but it was better than nothing, and the command meant that while his paper hadn't made him many friends, the ones it had gained him had pull. He was being given a starship to command, and a star base in an outlying system, near a colony that that he had strong ties to. He understood the game being played. To the average person, it looked like he was being punished, sent to exile on some far off star base. The difference was that while Aurora Station was a bit of a backwater on paper, the New Atlantis FTL Institute was attracting a lot of fine researchers. And, he was the official captain of the Surprise. It might be a discarded prototype only being used as an experiment, but it was a ship command.

"This is DS34," chimed a deep male voice.

"This is the USS Surprise, requesting permission to dock." Gaeta said easily.

"Permission is granted. Welcome to Aurora Starbase." He smiled at the designation. Deep Space 34 was the official designation but Dee and he both had gotten enough vids and letters from friends to know that it was locally known as Aurora. He waited just a moment before touching on the ship's comm. "This is the captain. We have arrived at DS34. I'm sure we're all looking forward to stretching our legs." That drew more than a few smiles from the bridge crew. The Surprise could, in an emergency, carry up to one hundred fifty people, but that was strictly for emergencies. The normal number of crew was forty but they had forty five, and it was cramped. Cramped for a Starfleet vessel anyway. "The current watch crew will stay aboard and continue placing the ship on standby before disembarking. Everyone else has permission to check out their new accommodations. I'll want the command staff at the docking port within five minutes." He stood up. "Ms. Morales, you have the conn."

The Surprise was small in comparison to most Starfleet vessels, but that made it that much easier to dock to a station. In seconds he was at the docking port. He nodded to each officer waiting. He had an excellent command staff. They would all be pulling double duty at times. Especially Lt. Cmdr. Reginald Barclay, his chief engineer. He had been lucky to get Reg. He had been able to argue that the Surprise was still a test bed prototype, and Reg had a genius knack for problems. Barclay had helped it along by having already requested an assignment to DS34. The FTL Institute had attracted a number of researchers, and Barclay had already written several excellent papers on the topic.

Then again, he thought as he nodded at the rest of the command staff, he had been lucky in many ways. Rosenfeld's death was unexpected, but she had been likeminded and he suspected her current staff would reflect that. He was bringing people out who at the very least were open minded enough to consider the possibility that Starfleet needed to be able to defend itself. People who had seen the Borg heading to Sector One unscathed by everything Starfleet had to throw at them understood. It had honestly shocked him that more weren't concerned, but then, survivors who had actually seen the Borg in action were few and far between. Starfleet was still top heavy at both ends, loaded with admiralty that hadn't truly faced the threat because it had happened so quickly, and freshly graduated junior officers who had no idea how close Earth really had come to Armageddon. The problem of the mythic last minute rescue, he had realized, was that Starfleet and the Federation had been rolling sevens for the last two hundred years and when the hard six came, it was going to hurt.

The Twelve Colonies had ignored the threat at their doorstep. He didn't intend to let the Federation do the same. He was planning to get some of his ideas developed and between the star base and the New Atlantis research facility, he didn't think it would be that hard.

The hatch door opened and he spotted a tall, dark haired man was standing there to greet them. Lt. Cmdr. Aaron Grossen, the acting commander, Gaeta realized. One of the unknown factors of his new command, Grossen had been Rosenfeld's executive officer, and she had been fairly non descript about him before her untimely death. The man's file said he was a decent enough officer, command track, but at forty five and still a lieutenant commander, he wasn't a rising star in the eyes of high command. Which didn't mean he was a bad officer, Gaeta allowed. But he had been moved from a line ship to a star base post, and most command officers wanted ship command, not star base posts. Which might mean that the man would appreciate the opportunity that the Surprise represented. "Permission to come aboard?"

"Permission granted." Grossen held out his hand to shake. "Welcome aboard, sir." Gaeta shook his hand, realizing instantly that Grossen was not happy at all. It had happened before. Since the incident with the Galactica and Kara Thrace, his relatively meager telepathic abilities had become more sensitive. It didn't always happen, but occasionally touching someone gave him a very strong flash of what they were feeling.

Aaron Grossen was angry, and trying very hard not to show it. Not a good sign.

"The formal change of command ceremony is scheduled for 13:00 hours. I have quarters set for all of the incoming personnel, and I would be happy to show you around the facility." Grossen said firmly as he let go of Gaeta's hand.

"I would like that a great deal," Gaeta said easily. "As you know, DS34 has been assigned the USS Surprise full time. I hope you've been looking forward to getting some ship time." Grossen was his de facto XO. On paper, the man looked like someone who preferred ship to base life, but in person he wasn't so certain.

"The Surprise is one of those….newer designs, isn't it?" Grossen asked as he fell in beside Gaeta as they walked down the corridor. "Created with the Borg in mind? I thought Captain Sisko got the only completed Defiant class…" His tone was cool but held a hint of disdain. "I understand they had a lot of problems with it."

"Every design has its problems. The decision was made to finish off the six that were already partially built rather than break them down. The time was already invested, and the Defiant has shown itself very useful in battle."

"When it wasn't tearing itself apart in high warp," Grossen said easily. "That certainly makes it less useful."

"Fortunately, one of the side effects of the Defiant's problems is that I have been given permission to test an FTL drive in the Surprise." Gaeta said after a moment. Grossen's expression didn't change, but there was a subtle tensing. He pressed on. "With so many of the research staff already investigating FTL applications, it shouldn't be too difficult. I read your paper on warp speed and engine efficiency. I'm glad I have an expert in warp technology here." A little flattery never hurt. Grossen was a top flight researcher. Most of the base staff was interested in warp and FTL research, but Grossen was a rarity, a researcher in the command track.

Which might be part of the problem. If he wanted command, being seconded to a star base that was focusing on local research into a completely different propulsion system, then it was possible that Grossen simply didn't like the assignment. It was a problem to solve. On the plus side, as the man led him around the station, clearly showing off the facility and taking pleasure in how the crew looked and responded, Gaeta could see that he wasn't dealing with an incompetent that couldn't do the job. In fact, the station seemed very well run.

"There's already some pending matters for you, once you assume command." Grossen said as they walked into the station command center. "The president of New Atlantis wants to have a welcoming ceremony for you. I believe she described it as a party. There are several requests from the FTL Institute, Admiral Adama has invited you to the Galactica for a briefing on the current defense plans for the system. President Roslin also advised that there have been several requests from one of the religious factions to have an audience with you."

"They probably won't like the answer they'll get," Gaeta said quickly. As Grossen raised his eyebrows, obviously curious, he added, "It only encourages their beliefs if I pay attention to them."

"The Temple of Felix Apollo will not be happy," Grossen said after a moment. Gaeta was certain that the man was relieved and trying very hard not to show it. "They've been spouting off that your assignment is a direct answer to their prayers."

Lovely, Gaeta thought tiredly. Made worse by the fact that one thing he had been ordered to look into was the presence of Palamas indicators in the New Atlantean population. There had been some curiosity over it, particularly when it became clear that some of the colonial technology seemed to rely on the users having enhanced nervous systems. At last check, President Roslin hadn't out right refused to allow genetic testing of the population but was concerned that it would be divisive. Considering that the fools who still considered him sent by the gods also were very vocal about wanting to know if they were of godly descent, he could understand Roslin's concern.

And considering the frown on his executive officer's face, he mentally sighed. He had his supporters in Starfleet, and he certainly had detractors. It was hard to fight when he knew, deep down, that the detractors were right. He had violated the Prime Directive, and gotten away with it, and no matter what the situation had been, the rule was too deeply embedded in the mindset of the Federation to escape unscathed. Add in the followers of Felix Apollo, and the overall gratitude of the New Atlanteans as a whole, and he could even see why it bothered Grossen. It looked bad.

"Don't look so worried, Cmdr.," he said easily. "I'm well aware of their views and I have no plans to indulge them."

"Yes, sir," Grossen said. "Vice President Adama also left you a message… to call your sister. She's apparently planning some sort of welcome dinner. He also wanted to know when your family was arriving and if arrangements needed to be made for living quarters planetside. I have arranged appropriate living quarters here for your family, but I understand your wife has close ties to the New Atlanteans."

"Thank you," Gaeta said. "Of course I'll be spending the majority of my time here, but my wife was planning to live planet side for the most part. She wants the children growing up with fresh air and grass under their feet, and we spent the last few years either on Earth or at the shipyards at Utopia Planitia and Yoyodyne… She thinks its time the kids got to reconnect with her people." He paused. "She'll be arriving in about six weeks. The Surprise is too small for passengers, and while the medical facilities are more than adequate, she has a tendency to give birth prematurely. Of course the irony is that she still hasn't had the baby."

"Congratulations, sir." Grossen said it pleasantly, and Gaeta took it as it was meant, a casual comment by a junior officer that had just met him. "You'll need to find housing in the colony then."

"I imagine the reason my sister wants a call is to let me know what the real estate market looks like. Hopefully Dee won't have to live in a shack." He rather doubted it. No doubt the followers of the Temple of Felix Apollo would be happy to build a lavish house but that simply wasn't an option.

Hopefully, he thought worriedly as he stepped into the station command center, coming back here isn't a huge mistake


	5. Chapter 5

"You know, Kara," Gaeta said easily as he leaned up against the bar. "The only thing that shocks me more than the fact that you have children, is that you own a day care facility." He grinned and sipped his drink.

"You're such an ass, Gaeta. I haven't missed that at all." Kara shot back as she poured herself a glass of ambrosia. "The day care is only a very small part of the entire complex and it provides a necessary, and lucrative service to our community as a whole." Then she laughed. "Listen to me. Basically we got tired of having kids running around the tables in the bar so we added the play area, and the employees started wanting a place for their kids to be when not in school and some of them have really young kids so… it sort of grew from there. You'll have to ask Sam about the details, he runs our vast entertainment empire." She clinked glasses with Gaeta and tossed back her drink.

Sam had a better head for business than she had ever expected when he first built the pyramid courts next to the then small bar. People like to play pyramid, he had reasoned, and people like to drink at pyramid games, and the modular style of building made it easy to add more room. Then he added a basketball court, a silly game but the Earthers liked it, and a gaming room where people could play cards, and another room with pool tables, a game that the colonials had taken to with a vengeance. People came to play, and they brought their kids, and with the population growing, adding the extensive play area just seemed like a great way to bring in more business. "We're thinking of adding an indoor pool."

"Maybe a water slide," Sam Anders added as he wiped down the bar. "I worried at first that we were a little off the beaten track, being so far from the center of the capitol, but it gives us room to expand. The racquetball courts are new just this month, and we're running the leagues for pyramid, basketball and racquetball. I'm considering adding an outdoor pool as well, and maybe some fields for outdoor games." He grinned. "Now you'll want the family membership. Out of respect for the whole saving our lives thing, I am willing to comp you for the first month, but then you have to pay monthly dues."

"Well I certainly don't want to take advantage of my position," Gaeta said with a laugh. "And Dee will probably want to hang out here with everyone else." He eyed Kara. "And I certainly want my kids to partake in Starbuck's day care…."

She swatted him. "You know, Club Starbuck is member's only. Keep it up and you just might not get a membership." She gestured around the empty room. "Show some respect, Felix. We actually closed for the night so we could have a private party for you." The official meet and greet ceremonies were done, as were the official briefings. Gaeta had kept things intentionally low key, not wanting to encourage the religious sorts with his presence.

He was being too cautious as always, in her opinion. There was a reason that the Felix Apollo sorts didn't have her enshrined as the living embodiment of Athena, child of the gods, and it was because she kicked their asses when they tried. Of course she wasn't the major player in their messed up religion but the point still held. Serena had driven off the attention as well. Gaeta in contrast was simply avoiding a lot of public appearances. Fine for now, when transporting to and from Aurora Base was reasonable, but Dee was planning to raise the family in the colony. They weren't going to be able to keep where they lived a secret for very long. Not when rumor had it that Gaeta had already bought a house near Lee's, so that the various cousins could play together.

"You really didn't have to," Gaeta said to Sam, "but now I feel obligated to go for that family membership. After all, I don't want my wife and kids to be the social have-nots here."

"Great," Sam said with an easy smile. "I wouldn't mind if you spread it around that the military discount does cover Starfleet personnel as well. Now I better check on the food." He headed off towards the connected restaurant. No doubt to check on the food. The woman, Elizabeth, who ran the restaurant, had once run a well known fine dining establishment on Picon.

"You have a nice place, Kara," Gaeta said after a long moment. "You and Sam have done well."

"Sam has done well," she conceded. "He's the one that runs this place, he's the one with the twenty year plan." It was an impressive plan at that, and smart. Sam knew the population wasn't big enough to support the sort of resort amusement park he was planning, but he was starting slow.

As she said it, the door to the play area burst open and a ball shot out, followed by two tow headed toddlers. Her toddlers, and she still marveled at the fact that they seemed like perfectly normal children, despite how completely inadequate she felt as a mother. They spotted her and came running. "Mommy! Mommy"

She hugged them both. "Felix, have you met the hellspawn? This one," and she swooped up her daughter, who giggled gleefully, "is Artemis, and this one," and she quickly set her down and lifted up her very similar brother, "is Apollo. What do we say when we meet new people?"

"Hello," they both said shyly. The woman who ran the day care quickly corralled them back in the pleasant play room.

"I still can't believe you had children," Gaeta said. "They're about the same age my oldest. They'll be in preschool together. That's a bit creepy." He smiled wryly. "They look like Sam. How'd you manage that?"

"Again, I haven't missed you being an ass, Felix. And don't think it isn't obvious that you think you can pull rank on me, now." She said it cheerfully, but there was just a tinge of threat to it. They were on good terms now, and that was fine, but Sam didn't need to hear yet another person express surprise about what the kids looked like. "As it happens, we planned the children. We didn't plan for two, but I figured this way, I could say no to a second child. I figured it would give him something to do while I am on active duty."

And Sam still argued the issue of more children, but she wasn't budging, and Gaeta didn't need to know that much of her business. Two kids was more than enough anyway. "Besides, aren't you and Dee actively repopulating? What is this latest one? Baby number eight? Nine? Congrats by the way." The Felix Apollo worshippers had been trumpeting the fact that Dualla had given birth to her second son, and third child all day. How they had found out, she didn't know, but they were celebrating. It was going to be amusing when Dee arrived.

"Number three, actually and thank you." He seemed embarrassed. "I wish I had been there but…" He shrugged. "I would have had to turn down the posting, and she didn't want that either. She is taking a passenger ship out here. There just isn't room in the Surprise for passengers, we were stuffed to the brim coming out, and Dee pregnant, and Caroline and Lyle being so young… It would have difficult at best. It makes me respect everyone that had kids during the Exodus. It's hard enough when you've got everything you need…"

She nodded, and shuddered slightly at the thought. "Enough about kids. What's going on with Starfleet?" She had intentionally invited him to the complex early, the pretext being a tour of the club but it had been a while since she had been able to pick the brain of a Starfleet officer who wasn't an idiot or a complete asshole. Most of the staffers on Aurora Base were either low rankers or scientists with uniforms who simply didn't pay much attention to anything but their experiments. That left Rosenfield, who had been very closemouthed, and Grossen, who was an asshole.

"I thought we weren't talking any business, that this was a party," Gaeta said carefully. She could almost see him shutting down.

"The party hasn't started yet, and the guests won't arrive for a few minutes. I'm not asking for the state secrets. I read your paper. It's not official, it never is until the announcements are made and the papers signed, but I'm in line for the exec spot." It still both frightened and enthralled her, that she was the one the Admiral considered a worthy replacement.

"And the Galactica, when the Admiral finally decides to let go of the throttle. I'm not surprised." He lifted his glass in a salute. " Congratulations. You deserve it. The Admiral is making the right choice. As soon as Lee became Vice President, I knew it would be you or Helo, and when Helo accepted the offer to train with Starfleet, I knew it would be you."

"Thank you," Kara said, meaning it. "Now spill. Don't worry, I know you're not going to agree that your exec is an ass, but give me an honest opinion. What's happening and badly do I need to worry?"

He hesitated, and then took a long drink. "If I am right," he said slowly, "it could worse than the attack on the Twelve Colonies. The Jem'Hader are literally bred for war, and the frakking complacency astounds me. It wasn't that long ago that they were evacuating Sector 001 because there was no way to stop the Borg, and now that we have ships that can at least try to fight, they want to scrap the whole line." He took a deep breath, and seemed to calm down. "If they come out of the wormhole at Deep Space Nine looking for a fight, we're too spread out and unprepared to do anything but run. And in case you've forgotten, and I don't think you have, the Cardassians, Klingons, and Romulans are hardly friendly to the Federation. The only reason they would help us would be if they felt threatened and frankly if I were the Dominion, I'd be make overtures in their direction just to stop that until it was too late. Granted, the Klingons are technically allies… but that's never stopped them from a double cross before. The Romulans love double crosses and the Cardassians are not trustworthy."

"So we're being smart to maintain the excessive defenses." That was good, in a way it relieved her to know they weren't just being paranoid. And, judging by Gaeta's darkened expression, he agreed, but it was time to move to a lighter topic. It was a welcome party, after all, and he was close to frothing in rage over the situation, which was also a giant clue about how worried he actually was. The last thing she needed though, was for his damn sister to walk in while he was working himself into a lather. "So that new ship… she looks pretty, but can she blow things up?"

She was right, that cooled him off almost instantly.

"The Surprise was designed to fight the Borg," he said. She nodded. The Borg made the Cylons look like amateurs. She had caught enough references to the Battle of Wolf 359 to look it up and it had been shocking how easily the Borg had cut through a fleet of what she considered highly armed and advanced ships.

"It helps," Gaeta added, "that it's more my ship than the Galactica ever was, but frankly, it could easily take out a ship like the Enterprise. You'll need to come visit and try the navigation station. Makes flying a viper seem like driving a car."

That, she thought as the first of the guests entered the large room, was enough. Gaeta wasn't going to spill more, she could sense that. He'd always loosened up quick with a little ambrosia and it was nice to see his tolerances were down, but everyone would kill her if he was falling down drunk before dinner. "Look who's here."

Gaeta turned, in time to spot Saul Tigh enter the room, carrying a large box. "You didn't need to bring anything, Colonel," she said.

"I thought," the older man said gruffly as he set the box on the bar, "that we could have a wine tasting since I have the latest vintages ready. I know Mr. Gaeta here," and his one eye rolled balefully, "is something of a wine snob, but perhaps everyone else might enjoy sampling the harvest."

"I'm not a snob," Gaeta said easily. "I just don't like drinking urine. Perhaps, since you imported vines from my cousin's vinyard, these vintages won't be horrible, sir."

"It's the best in the sector," Tigh shot back. "And I brought artisan cheeses from the dairy farm. I will have you know, Tigh-Adama Riesling is served at banquets on Betazed."

"Well, Ambassador Troi *is* a woman of fine taste," Gaeta conceded, his tone mocking. "Perhaps I won't have to choke this down."

"Oh you'll drink it and smile, Mr. Gaeta," Tigh said, "or else I'll have you in the brig. At least until your Starfleet buddies bail you out for your drunk and disorderly charge."

As they laughed, Kara felt the knot of concern unwind. Not a lot, but enough to let her enjoy the evening. But in the back of her mind, the worries were already churning.


	6. Chapter 6

The Surprise was his ship, in a way that no other ship had been. There were times in his life that his affinity with machines had seemed like a burden, but he had to admit, he liked the welcoming rush of touching a machine and knowing it wanted to do things for him. With ships, he was coming to understand that command made a difference. With the Zhukov, he had been tolerated by the ship. It would have gotten better if he had been there longer. The Galactica had only accepted him as a secondary user. If Bill Adama had ever taken against him in a bad way, the tricks he had used would have failed. It had never been his ship to work with.

The Surprise on the other hand, was his. He had watched it being built. He had touched all of the systems. As he sat in the command chair, his hand not on the control pad but simply touching the metal, he could feel its anticipation. It wanted to try the newly installed toy as much as he did. "Mr. Barclay, status report."

"FTL system is on line." Barclay said easily from the engineering station.

Gaeta nodded. He knew it was ready, not only could he feel it in his fingertips but he could read the con panel as well as anyone. "Mr. Grossen, let the New Atlantean command know that we have reached the designated test space and will commence with testing Surprise's FTL drive." The New Atlantean command apparently felt it was hilarious that Starfleet had requested an actual area of space put off limits for test flights.

Grossen nodded, a faintly sour expression on his face. It was a problem but Gaeta figured it was a short term problem. Grossen's assignment to DS34 was almost complete, and he had already requested reassignment to a ship. Gaeta hadn't made any objection. Grossen wasn't a bad officer at all, the station was very well run, and Rosenfield's evaluations had been good. Not stellar, but not career killing, and he had no official complaints. He was ready for Grossen to be reassigned though. The man was an inflexible thinker, and didn't like the New Atlantis culture and Gaeta had already had to deal with the after effects of Grossen's dislike. Putting the colonial military people who were being trained on Starfleet technology to cleaning tasks was acting with intentional offense. He had considered reprimanding Grossen but it was easier to simply endorse the man's request for reassignment.

"New Atlantis actual acknowledges our use of the test strip and offers to send a squad of their Raptors to observe. For "just in case"." Grossen said it coldly.

"No harm in extra help if there's a problem." Which signaled to the crew that he intended to treat the colonial military with respect, even though for most crisis situations, it wuld be the Surprise doing the rescuing. He switched to the ship loudspeaker. "This is the captain. We are about to test the FTL drive. Please make sure you are seated if you have not previously felt an FTL jump. The sensation can be distracting if you are not familiar with it." A warning they had already received, but he wanted everyone sharp. There wasn't much risk in testing the drive, it was an established and tested technology and even the naysayers had to acknowledge that, but being careful saved lives. "Mr. Barclay, spin the drive."

"Drive is spinning, coordinates programmed," Barclay said, betraying his excitement in his voice. Reg had always been an easy read, and the man was fascinated by the jump drive.

"On my mark, three, two, one, jump." He almost smiled as the odd inside out sensation washed over him. It was a smoother jump than the Galactica which didn't surprise him. All of the equipment was brand new. What did surprise him was how the view screen went from stars to a view of a Cylon base star rushing at them. "Frakking hell!"

The proximity alarms blared as Grossen paled in shock. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Not important!" Gaeta shouted as he looked at the data streaming in. There was no time to maneuver, they were in a collision course. "Spin the drive!"

"It's too soon," Grossen shot back but out of the corner of his eye, Gaeta saw Barclay jump to the console. Frak, he thought as the drive whined. He set his hands down on the chair, his eyes on the base star rushing at them. _Listen to me, you have to jump 1000 meters forward or else we all die. Jump. JUMP! _

The power flowed through him. Then the inversion wave, and the view screen was full of stars. "Oh thank you," he said breathlessly, letting his hand caress the cold metal. As he stood up, he broke out in a cold sweat. I'm going to pay for this, was his second thought as the black began to overtake his vision. "Mr. Grossen, get damage control working. Ms. Morales, hail the Cylon base star and get a gods damned explanation and tell the New Atlantean observers to stand down," because they were already panicking, he could feel that too, "and… and…."

Later, he wouldn't even remember hitting the floor.

0o0oo0o0

"I don't know why they get so uptight about things," muttered the pilot. "Its just a jump drive. Why can't they just install the damn things and be done?"

"Because Starfleet is loaded with thousands of people who find it entertaining to analyze and over think every facet of every piece of technology they possess." Kara said easily. "These are people who write scientific papers on what screw driver is better. What are you bitching about, Takeout? You're getting some nice easy flying time." Takeout was a new pilot, a kid who had been all of twelve years old when Boomer had hauled him and others off the surface of Caprica.

She agreed with him, in theory anyway. Starfleet was generally too fussy over the FTL drive. She was just surprised that Surprise was such a sweet little war ship. And not surprised that Starfleet wasn't building more. Gaeta was hoping that the FTL drive would eliminate some of the problems the design had with warp by simply removing warp from the equation. A back up system for emergencies but not the ship's primary method of transport. A good idea considering the grief the warp drive caused in the Defiant class. And of course, since it was a good idea, it was shuffled off to a backwater system to implement. "Galactica actual," she said into the wireless. "Raptor flight 326 is assembled and positioned to assist." They were at the end of the test track, with the other raptors spread out from the beginning to the end. It wasn't a continuous track, of course, just two somewhat separate areas of space that they put off limits so people could safely learn to use the jump drive. Once the Surprise was done, she intended to drill the pilots in the raptor squad on combat jumps. She doubted any assistance would be required but it was good for the newer pilots to practice.

"Surprise is spinning her drive," came back.

A Cylon base star appeared, followed by a resurrection ship. A frakking sneak attack, was her first thought, and then she was grabbing fr the wireless but before she could sound the warning, Surprise appeared, directly in front of the base star. A nightmare scenario, both ships set for collision and both without time to respin the drives. And the Surprise was moving at speed after the jump, the way Starfleet vessels moved coming out of warp…

And then the word _jump _fell into her mind and Surprise wavered, disappeared, and reappeared just behind the still moving base star.

"Oh frak, how'd they do that?" Takeout said in awe.

"Never mind," she said harshly. She knew how and it wasn't important. She flicked the wireless on, making sure to include Surprise in the broadcast. "Galactica Actual, we require assistance. There is a Cylon base star in colonial space. I repeat there is a Cylon base star in colonial space. This is not a drill. There has been a near collision between USS Surprise and an unknown Cylon base star in the FTL test track. I request backup." That would get the Admiral running. She then hit the known Cylon frequencies. "Cylon ship you are violating New Atlantean space and are in violation of your treaty with the Federation. Stand down."

"Standing down," was the immediate response. A Two. It made her skin crawl. "Colonial Raptor, we are in distress. All weapon systems are down. We are requesting assistance."

Assistance. She almost cursed. Under the treaty the colonials had signed, they had to offer reasonable assistance to other Federation members who requested it. And Gaeta's stunt had damaged their ship, she realized as she looked it over. She didn't blame him at all, and she doubted the Cylons would either, if he hadn't jumped Surprise, the two ships would have made a very pretty explosion as they collided, but jumping too close caused damage. "Cylon ship, New Atlantean authorities are on their way. You will not make any hostile moves."

"Raptor flight 326, stand down," chimed a new voice. She winced. It was Grossen, from the Surprise. Not panicked, but not happy that he'd been within seconds of being smeared across New Atlantean space. He was clearly broadcasting on the full range, including everyone within earshot. Not, she had to admit, a bad move. Especially as the Galactica jumped into the fray, her newly refitted hull gleaming and bristling for a fight.

"This is Cmdr. Grossen of the USS Surprise. Cylon ship, you will proceed on the following coordinates. DS34 will provide emergency assistance. Is your ship flight capable?" Grossen sounded officious but firm.

"We won't be able to jump," the Two said, "but we are capable of direct flight."

"Then proceed to DS34. Surprise will escort your ships." Grossen's voice was edged. Kara wondered if the Surprise was all right. The scanners said yes, but the normally agile ship swung around slowly, as though it was damaged or hesitant.

"Galactica will escort as well," Adama said over the wireless.

"That is unnecessary, Galactica." Grossen said firmly.

"I am not asking your permission, Cmdr. Grossen." Adama growled. "Galactica will escort the Cylon base star and resurrection ship to Aurora Station, and I will be present for the debriefing and explanation as to why this Cylon base star is here in our space, violating the treaty we have."

"We have no objections," the Two from the base star fairly shouted into the com. "Please scan our ships. Our weapons are down, and we have the entire population from our colony aboard, including children. We are not here to commit an act of war. Our system was invaded and we need Federation assistance." Not panicked, Kara realized, but his tone was desperate and that frightened her more than the appearance of the base star. The Cylons were under the same restrictions the colonials were, if not more strict rules due to their history of attempted genocide. And a quick look at her scanner told her that he wasn't lying. The base star was packed to the brim with people.

The Cylons were coming to them for help, and considering the history, that meant things had to be very very bad. Cylons weren't cowards. They didn't run by nature. That meant she was going to the debriefing as well. Because she wasn't going to let anyone wreck the new home they had built.


	7. Chapter 7

"Why the hell are they here?" Laura said as she stepped off the transporter platform. Her immediate question didn't surprise Bill Adama at all. He had the same question.

"We are invited to a briefing. By Cmdr. Grossen," he said as he took her arm. "It's in twenty minutes. We're taking a Raptor to the station." Which was being intentionally difficult but then so was Grossen. "Colonel Tigh is already here to assume command while I am away."

Laura nodded. "I only got the bare details. Why is Grossen in command?"

A good question. "We don't have details yet, but Major Thrace was monitoring the test flight of the Surprise's new FTL system. The Cylon base star jumped in unannounced and the Surprise almost collided with it. The Surprise managed a second jump in under thirty seconds," which was just possible in a Raptor, but not a larger ship, "and Maj. Thrace believes Cmdr. Gaeta may have… done something similar to what he did during the Romulan attack." Which was amazing and creepy all at once. He'd done his own research on what the Federation called Palamas genetic indicators and the life forms of Pollux 4. It was eerie and disturbing, made worse by the reality that even someone with a layman's knowledge of genetics could see that the colonials had Palamas indicators.

She blinked, taking it in. "So Cmdr. Gaeta is likely unconscious right now."

"Or dead." Bill added. "I haven't gotten a clear answer from Grossen. I don't think it's likely, but he hasn't confirmed or denied anything." He doubted Gaeta was dead, but he was certain the man was out of action for several days if the last time was any indicator. Gaeta had been lucky that time. Bill was annoyed at Grossen for the cryptic comments but there was nothing he could officially find fault with. The truth was, if he had taken ill and Tigh had to assume command, he wouldn't expect Tigh to yell his medical condition to the world.

Kara Thrace was waiting by the Raptor in her dress grays, with Racetrack and Skulls in their flight suits. Essentially an honor guard, he thought with no small amount of amusement. Hamish McCall was a reservist, on the Galactica for required training and normally worked as a landscape designer for the new government's parks and memorials, while Margeret Edmonson was one of the lead instructors at the FTL Institute. She technically was spending her reserve drill time as the acting tactical officer. Neither had been on the flight schedule and he suspected they both had volunteered. He nodded to them as he helped Laura into the Raptor, with Kara right behind him.

"There's been nothing from Starfleet," Kara said as she took a seat. "Not a word, and we've been sending messages for an hour. And, the communication officer at Aurora Station told me they haven't heard from Star Fleet since their weekly check in five days ago."

Bill nodded. Both facts were troubling. He didn't expect instant answers from the Federation every time they called but it was unusual to not get a response over an incident like the one that had just occurred. As a star base, Aurora was fairly autonomous on a day to day and even weekly basis. They reported in to Star Fleet on a regular schedule but five days with no communication wasn't unreasonable. But again, there had just been a near collision in space and Grossen at the very least would have sent word of his temporary command. He had done so when Rosenfield had died.

It bothered him though. It reminded him of the odd radio silence from the armistice station, right before the Cylon attack. That the Cylons were associated with the sudden silence only added to his feeling of unease. The Cylon base star and resurrection ship floating near Aurora Station made him uneasy as well. He doubted very much that the Cylons had jumped into their system for a fight, but he also knew that they would make him nervous until the day he died.

They wouldn't come to New Atlantis without a damn good reason. The Cylons knew how the people of New Atlantis felt. The few that worked in the FTL Institute were very careful and polite and they didn't walk the streets at night or leave the campus of the Institute. He assumed that they reported the colonial attitude toward them. He doubted the average citizen would react with much beyond a harsh glare or a few nasty insults but that was mostly because the few on the planet were very careful to not give offense or step out of line. The colonials as a whole hadn't been overjoyed at the idea that the biological Cylons were given a new homeworld, but the few remaining scientific intellectuals in the fleet had done a good job in interpreting Starfleet's findings. People weren't sympathetic, the anger was still there, and would be until the survivors were all dead, and that made it damn odd for the Cylons to run to them for help.

He'd listened to the communication Kara had with the base star. The Two had been relieved and very very quick to roll on his back in surrender. The base star was stuffed to the brim with people according to their scanners, which meant the Cylons weren't lying about loading their entire colony into the ship.

And, he thought suddenly, give the bastards their due, they aren't cowards. That they had run from an invasion meant that something very bad was happening and made the odd radio silence from Starfleet and the Federation even more worrisome.

The Raptor landed in the station's landing bay with ease. There was an officer waiting, one he wasn't familiar with. An ensign, no doubt fresh out of the Academy and on her first assignment. She looked nervous and concerned. It was technically a bit insulting by both colonial and Starfleet standards to send what appeared to be the most junior officer available to greet the president of the colonies, and he knew Grossen well enough to know that the man knew the courtesies. On the other hand, he thought as the ensign greeted them and led them to the briefing room, he thought he already had the measure of that particular man. Grossen was a good mid rank officer, but not, in his opinion, command material. With the station commander dead or ill for the second time in months, it was possible that the normally circumspect and stiff man simply hadn't thought about it.

As he stepped into the briefing room, he looked into Grossen's face and changed his opinion slightly. Someone had pissed the man off, that was obvious, and judging by the cold glare he was giving the uniformed Six, Two, and Three in the room, for a change it wasn't the colonials.

Grossen nodded to him and to Roslin, pointedly ignoring Kara, who grinned and rolled her eyes at him. Then he turned back to the Two. "Now that we have representatives from the colonial government and military, I'd like to get some explanation as to why you're here with your entire population."

"Actually, I'd like to ask a question first," Laura said. Her voice had that icy tone that he hadn't heard in a very long time. "Cmdr. Grossen, it's nothing personal, but I'd like to know why you're handling this situation and not Cmdr. Gaeta. Did he survive the jump incident?"

Grossen's complexion grew red. "Cmdr. Gaeta is in medical right now. Until he regains consciousness, I am in command."

"Well, that's comforting," Laura said after a long moment. Bill was certain that the Six was struggling not to laugh. Laura had a way of sounding both polite and incredibly rude all at once.

"I am Commander Natalie Six," the Six said as they all took seats at the briefing table, "And I apologize for the incident with your ship. We are grateful that Cmdr. Gaeta was able to spare our ship and jump the Surprise to avoid collision." She looked at Laura and Bill, not nervous, Bill realized, but almost intimately aware that she was in a bad position. "I insisted that representatives from the colonial government be here. I want there to be no misunderstandings. Approximately three days we received word that the Dominion had launched an invasion force through the wormhole at Deep Space Nine. The Cardassians had declared for the Dominion before we lost communication with the Federation." She paused. "We completely lost subspace communication. I made the decision to evacuate our entire colony. We called Starfleet, we called Bajor, Deep Space Nine… Everywhere that we jumped, the systems were under attack. I decided to take us here, because I knew it was pretty far from Deep Space Nine and there is a star base here…."

"Of course Starfleet and the Federation will provide assistance," Grossen said. "But we haven't heard anything about any attacks."

And that was exactly why it was a bad thing that Gaeta was down for the count, Adama thought. "Doesn't that concern you, Commander? Because it concerns me a great deal that there's been a *war* going on for the last few days and we haven't heard a thing from Starfleet?"

Grossen glared at him. "Of course, that's concerning, Admiral Adama, but it will have to be substantiated. Commander Six, you requested assistance. I know from the scans that your ship is well beyond its normal carrying capacity. Because of the numbers involved, its unrealistic to offload the extra people onto the station." He eyed Roslin, and Adama realized suddenly that he was going to make Laura pay for earlier. "The obvious solution is that the residents of Cylonia be allowed to set up a temporary refugee settlement on New Atlantis."

There was dead silence. "That's unacceptable," Laura said after a long moment.

"That's part of the treaty you signed to become Federation citizens." Grossen rose to his feet. "The Cylons are Federation citizens, asking for refuge. You're required to give aid. Your previous political differences are noted but not relevant. If the Dominion is attacking the Federation, we have a far bigger problem than your petty differences. For what its worth, if I could reasonably accommodate the Cylon population on Deep Space 34, I would, but that many people would overload our environmental systems. I am going to establish contact with Starfleet and let high command know the situation here. Until we can fnd a more appropriate place for the refuges, New Atlantis will have to accept them. I assume you can work out the details without a referee, but if its necessary, I will be in the station command center." And with that, he left the briefing room.

There was another long moment of silence. Finally, Six smiled wryly. "Now that we know the current senior official of Starfleet is an idiot, maybe we can discuss the situation in a less… deliberately abrasive way?" She nodded to her two companions. "There is a war going on. Our people were in danger and your people are in danger. Our ship is over packed with our children. Our children who are at the oldest, four years old and most are babies. And under every medical definition, our children are as human as you. We don't expect you to open your arms and accept us…. But the children are innocent."

"What if we do that?" Bill asked. "Take in your children. Then what will you do?" He didn't like the idea, but while Grossen had been as intentionally offensive as he could be to make the point, he was right. New Atlantis was a Federation world and the treaty they had signed meant they had to assist Federation citizens. Commander Six seemed aware that it was a bitter pill and he mentally applauded her for taking the right tack and not demanding assistance.

But then the Six model had always been subtly manipulative.

As if sensing his dark thoughts, her eyes narrowed. "We would fix the damage to the base star and proceed to more populated sectors and offer our assistance in the fight. We haven't been allowed weapons technology either, but the Federation is our home now and we're willing to fight for it."

It was a good answer. Something was very wrong and no doubt getting worse by the minute. And he was saddled with Grossen as a colleague. "Major Thrace," he said easily, "you know where the medical facility is here. Before we make any decisions, I'd like to know when Cmdr. Gaeta will be able to give his input." Gaeta was Starfleet, and he remembered Kara's warning on that all too well, but the man was also a far more clever political player than he was often credited.

As Kara nodded and left, Six seemed relieved. "I'd prefer to wait as well," she said to Roslin. "We're not in a crisis situation on the base star as yet. We… are aware how awkward any sort of conciliatory gestures on your part would be. I don't pretend to understand how difficult this is for you or your people…. But we would be grateful for any assistance the people of the Twelve Colonies would give."

Laura's expression changed to a bitter smile. "How do you like being on the other side… Six?"

"I don't," Six said coldly. "And if you think coming here and asking for your help wasn't a difficult decision, you're wrong. My people think I'm being a fool. I won the argument by pointing out that we have no where else to go. The jump drive is damaged. At the very least, we need time to repair it. We want our children to be someplace safe and we're willing to beg your help to get that." The Cylon paused. "If you need me to be on my knees with my hand out in order to consider it humiliating enough, I'm willing to do that. To save my people and my children. Is it necessary?"

"We'll see," Laura said coldly.


	8. Chapter 8

"Don't get up," the doctor, Lt. Elizabeth Mathabane said as Gaeta started to move. "You were lucky. I'm not an expert with the Palamas genetic factors but if my reading of the textbooks is correct, its surprising that your brains aren't leaking out your ears."

Do doctors all take a class in attitude, Gaeta wondered as he slowly sat up. "I don't have time to have a slow recovery," he snapped . It was the station's medical center, not the tiny sickbay on the Surprise, which didn't surprise him at all. Mathabane was the lead medical specialist on the station and she had already commented on how she preferred medical facilities that were bigger than a closet. She would have insisted on moving him to the station medical center as soon as they were in transporter range. "How long was I unconscious and what's the situation?"

"Three hours, and medically speaking, this isn't going to kill you." The woman eyed him. "You were lucky, sir. Your electrolytes are coming back into balance, and I highly recommend that you eat something," and she handed him a nutrition bar, "but there's no damage that some rest won't fix. Which makes this very different than the last time you pulled this stunt. Do I need to tell you again how lucky you were?"

"No." He could feel how lucky he was, although he suspected Mathabane understood how different the situation was. The Galactica's jump five years earlier had nearly killed him. It had been a week before he had been able to walk without dizzy spells, and close to a month before he even felt a trickle of his abilities come back. Right now, he didn't feel well, but letting his hand touch the walls brought the gentle thrumming of the station doing its many functions into his mind. He winced and pulled his hand back.

"Don't do that," Mathabane snapped.

"I have to work," he said as he gingerly stood up. There was a little dizziness but it passed. "There's a situation."

"No one has been shot yet, but yes. Lt. Barclay is waiting to brief you." Mathabane glared at him. "You aren't cleared to leave my sick bay until you eat. You didn't cause any permanent damage but your blood sugar is bottoming out. Sit down, eat that, and I'll bring Barclay in."

Mathabane had struck him as a tough woman, that was why he had brought her out with him, and he knew she meant it. So he nibbled on the ration bar, amused to find out it was some sort of chocolate flavored concoction.

Reg Barclay strode into the small room, followed by Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson, in pilot gear, which told him two things very quickly. First, that Margaret and Reg were still a couple despite their lengthy absences from each other, and second, that there was a delegation from New Atlantis already on the station. Which made sense. He still sometimes had to stop and remember how much faster things could happen when transporters were available. "I need a situation report, Barclay."

"The Cylons are here," Racetrack said, rolling her eyes just a bit.

"I didn't ask you, Captain," Gaeta said, his voice sharp. He didn't like being a martinet over discipline, but he was in command and while Racetrack was a friend, she was also a junior officer of the local military. He was still friends with a lot of people, Racetrack included, but he wasn't a junior lieutenant on the Galactica, he was the head of Starfleet in their sector, which meant things had to be more formal. It was awkward, but he had to maintain his authority. Racetrack seemed taken back at first, and then nodded understanding. "Reg?"

"Cmdr. Grossen is attempting to contact Starfleet right now." Reg looked concerned. "The Cylons are reporting that they were attacked by the Dominion several days ago and were forced to evacuate their colony. They made many attempts to contact other systems and got no responses at all." Reg looked nervous. "They reported finding several systems under attack."

"And we haven't heard a damn thing from Starfleet outside of routine traffic," Gaeta finished. That was an enormous concern. That also meant he needed to get back on his feet and fast. "What else is going on?" he asked as he crammed the nutrition bar into his mouth.

"The Cylon ship was damaged during the… jump incident," Barclay said after a moment. "Cmdr. Grossen ordered the colonial government to allow the citizens of Cylonia to establish a refugee camp on New Atlantis. That's… not being well received. President Roslin and Commander Six of the Cylons are currently debating it."

"Oh gods, that's great," Gaeta muttered. Laura Roslin was in many ways a fine leader of people, but he knew her well enough to know how well having Cylons in the same system would go over. Let alone on the planet. He was supremely conscious of the fact that his own skin was crawling at the idea of being near Cylons. He didn't like it, he didn't like knowing they were in the system, and seeing that base star on the view screen had been like confronting one of his nightmares… But they were Federation citizens and they wouldn't have come to New Atlantis if there had been a better choice.

And Aaron Grossen was not fond of the New Atlanteans, he had already figured out that some of the man's irritation with his current assignment was that he didn't like the colonials or how they lived. Grossen did nothing that he could complain about, but he suspected that Grossen would have delighted in pointing out the obligations that New Atlantis had to the Federation. And that meant that he needed to get the hell out of sick bay and start mending fences. "Can I get up now?" he asked Mathabane, showing her the empty wrapper from the nutrition bar.

Mathabane handed him three more of the bars. "Yes, as long as you keep eating. I'm not joking. You need to be careful. I know you're not fully human, but here's the reality. You're mostly human and we don't know much at all about the parts that aren't human. You need to keep eating, even if you don't feel well, and if you don't feel well, you need to tell me so I can do something about it. Now get out of here. And let the Cylon delegation know that we have medical personnel if they need assistance."

He nodded as he stood. No dizziness, a good thing, and he gestured for Barclay and Racetrack to follow him out of sickbay. The important thing, he thought quickly, was to reestablish contact with Starfleet. That was the giant red flag. If there were multiple systems being invaded by the Dominion, and he doubted the Cylons would make up such a stupid, easily disproved lie, then it was unusual and significant that they hadn't heard a word since their weekly check in.

And, he realized in horror, he hadn't heard from Dee and the children in five days. Not unusual in the ordinary course of things. She was taking a passenger liner out, that was stopping at a variety of fun places. He'd already gotten messages and the rare opportunity to talk to the children live but if there was some sort of war on…. "Have we gotten any messages at all?"

Reg paled. "No," he said after a long moment. "We haven't gotten any communications in four days. It is technically not unusual but…." His voice trailed off.

"It's a bad sign, considering what the Cylons are describing." A thought occurred to him as they stepped into the hallway. "Have we had any reports of the Dominion or the Jem'hadar being able to disrupt subspace communication?"

Reg shook his head. "I'm not sure how they could disrupt it this thoroughly."

It smelled like a sneak attack and if he was trying to run in and grab as much territory as he could, he'd make damn certain that it was difficult for the enemy to communicate. And he knew from analyzing strategy and tactics that Starfleet and the Federation was woefully unprepared.

He was pleasantly surprised to see relief on the faces of the crew as he stepped into the station command center. Being popular with the crew wasn't something he worked for, a leader wasn't necessarily everyone's friend, but it was felt good to know that the crew had been worried about him. Even Grossen looked relieved as he came to attention.

"The Cylons have reported conflict near the wormhole entrance, sir," Grossen said quickly. "But I haven't gotten any confirmation of their story."

Another problem, Gaeta realized, was that most of his staff, including Grossen, was infected with Starfleet naivety. The few, like Reg, who had survived a conflict, understood exactly how it was a bad sign to not receive communications. "They're probably already neutralized, Cmdr.. Have we gotten any word from anyone at all? The Andorian colony in the next sector, those Bolian miners who were scouting for new sites? Passenger traffic?"

Grossen and Morales both shook their heads. "Its like we have a clear field out there, sir," Morales added nervously. "People should be responding. The only responses we've gotten are from the Galactica and New Atlantis."

"The Federation is under attack," Gaeta said quickly, putting it together. "Stop broadcasting outside the sector. I want the station on heightened alert status. I want all four ships unmoored from the station and use the three training vessels to patrol the sector. We may need crew from the colonials for that so I'll discuss it with Admiral Adama, but start getting the ships prepared. Surprise and her crew will remain in the station vicinity to coordinate defensive measures."

"Sir, we don't know that the Cylons are telling the truth," Grossen protested.

"We don't know that they aren't," which was difficult to say considering his own views on Cylons telling the truth, "and I am not taking any chances." That got everyone moving. He unwrapped one of the bars and began to eat it. He didn't feel dizzy, exactly, but not quite right, and the normally comforting internal hum from the computers felt like an all over body migraine. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Kara Thrace entering the command center. She was angry, which was expected, but not out of control.

And he had no doubt that she was looking for him, at Bill Adama's request. She spotted him and strode over, and that was something that was going to have to stop as well, especially if they were on a war footing. "Gaeta, you're not unconscious. Good. Did this frakking idiot tell you his plan for the Cylons?"

"Major Thrace, you are allowed here as a courtesy." He kept his voice even but hard. Unlike Racetrack, she didn't instantly get it. Her eyes blazed.

"That idiot wants us to let the Cylons establish a refugee camp on New Atlantis!" She glared as though it was an obvious problem and perhaps to her it was.

"You're Federation citizens and you agreed to abide by Federation law," Grossen shot back. "And you are not a member of the crew and have no right to be here."

That was more than enough of an idea of how Grossen had handled the briefing with Roslin, Adama and the Cylons. And it was time to nip the situation in the bud. "As you were, Cmdr. Grossen," he said, letting his voice raise. He could see the smug smile start on Kara's face and turned on her. "You will remember that you are a guest on this station and if you can't control yourself in the command center, I will have you removed. Are we clear?"

Her eyes blazed. "Yes *sir*, "she hissed. "Admiral Adama, President Roslin, and Commander Six are requesting your input concerning the establishment of a refugee camp."

That wasn't unexpected, especially since he was certain Grossen had already played the "citizens of the Federation" card. "That's fine. I need to speak to Admiral Adama and President Roslin as well since it's clear the Federation has been attacked. Cmdr. Grossen, continue the preparations. I want to be notified immediately if we receive any communications at all. I don't care how minor. Maj. Thrace, come with me."

She held her tongue until they were in the hallway. "That idiot thinks we're going to take the Cylons in. Like guests. Grossen is an ass."

He stopped and grabbed her to face her. "Do you seriously think I'm going to make a different decision, Kara?" His headache increased dramatically. "We haven't heard a gods damned word from *anyone* in five days, and that's normal except when apparently we have had entire systems already invaded and lost. I have no where to send the gods damned Cylons except New Atlantis. Do you think I like it? Do you think I've forgotten New Caprica? I haven't. I haven't forgotten one damn minute of the entire war so believe me, the whole idea makes my skin crawl and if I had a choice, I'd send them somewhere else, but right now there's no where else." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry if Cmdr. Grossen was as rude about as I suspect he was, but he's right about the treaty and the necessity. I wouldn't have dumped it on you immediately unless the Cylon ship was loosing air, and you know I am aware of how difficult it will be…. But New Atlantis doesn't have a choice. We're at war, and I have to ask the Admiral to assign anyone who has the skill to me so I can fully crew the three outdated pieces of scrap you've been using as training vessels. I'm going to try to smooth it over and be very conciliatory, but the Cylons will need a place to stay. Dammit, if its as bad as I think it can it… You've read my papers. We may need the Cylons to round out the system defenses."

Kara looked at him intently. "No communication at all?"

He shook his head. "In retrospect, that should have been a red flag. Whatever this is, its well planned." And eerily reminiscent and he could see that Kara felt the same.

She seemed to hesitate. "You haven't heard from Dee, then."

"No," he admitted. "Not since five days ago. The ship she was on was doing a little cruise around some tourist spots." He had wanted her to have a little fun, and some recovery time from having the baby.

"I'm sure she's fine," Kara said after a moment. "She's tough, and passenger ships always run for cover. It's bad for business to fight."

"It can wait," he agreed, although he knew exactly what she was doing. People do change, he thought as they moved down the hallway. He never would have thought, years ago, that there would be a day where Kara Thrace tried to offer him some concern.


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn't the course change and detour that set off the alarms in her head, it was the way the crew of the passenger cruiser had gone from friendly to tense and quiet. Anastasia Dualla knew that look. Not quite fear, but worry. Something was wrong, something that they weren't entirely certain about. They weren't panicking, but the looks on their faces, and the sudden detour, told her that something was wrong.

One of the stewards came up to her in the ship passenger dining room as she was gathering the baby's things and corralling the two little ones. A nice woman, from Earth, who was working her way across the sector and Dee had already had several interesting conversations with her about the children and where they had been. The woman looked at her nervously. "Listen," she said quietly, "we're not supposed to tell the passengers this, but you've got kids so I wanted to prepare you. The detour to Betazed… when we get there, we're offloading all the passengers for safety. There's been some sort of attack by the Cardassians and the captain is worried."

"What is Starfleet doing?" Dee asked. The question was almost a reflex after living with Felix for so long. Starfleet always did something. It just usually wasn't helpful and made Felix angry. She had to admit, she was glad he had taken the position at New Atlantis even though it wasn't going to help his career. At the very least he could be around friends while he banged his head against the wall, and if she secretly hoped that he'd consider leaving Starfleet and staying on New Atlantis, that was a private fantasy. He'd quit if he thought she was unhappy and she wasn't for the most part. What made her unhappy with his being in Starfleet wasn't the moving or living on Earth, it was that after all was said and done, Felix wasn't happy.

The young woman shook her head. "We haven't heard anything. Nothing at all. Not from Starfleet or from any of our normal checkpoints. The Betazed government offered to let the captian offload the passengers… they think something serious is happening. I just wanted to let you know since the captain isn't announcing it until the ship arrives and you've got the three little ones to deal with."

"Thank you," Dee said gratefully. She picked up the baby and called the two children away from the small group they were playing with. "Lyle, Caroline, come on, Mommy needs to take Julian back to the room for his nap." And Julian had a good travel bassinet that Felix had gotten her that was lightweight and carried all of the baby's necessary items. If she was understanding the steward correctly, it was damn lucky she was well prepared. Betazed was hardly a primitive world but she doubted that they were the only passenger ship that was making an unplanned detour.

She took the children back to their small cabin and considered her next step. She had plenty of credits. She hadn't gone crazy with packing but she was coming to understand that she and Felix both had a tendency to plan for worst case scenarios. She had clothes and emergency supplies for all the children and contacts at every stop. And she had come to understand that men on Earth were simply raised to be more protective towards women. That was why she wasn't surprised that Felix had arranged it with Karl Agathon for the colonial to be on the same passenger liner for the trip. Karl had been taking some Starfleet courses and could have hitched a ride back on Felix's new command but had decided to take the long way home, and Dee knew why. It was the same sort of accompaniment that Felix had extended to Karl on the occasions where Sharon and their children had been on Earth. She had thought it was silly and a little overbearing on Felix's part when she realized that Helo was indeed, her escort. Karl thought it was funny as well, but he had admitted to her that knowing that Felix and his family were keeping an eye on Sharon when she was on Earth helped take some of the worry away. Sharon had Helo had spent close to two years each on Earth, long enough that Hera had actually started kindergarten there.

Karl would help her with the kids, she thought. It shouldn't be too long. She could treat him to a fancy dinner to repay him.

"What do you mean, the hotels are full? All of them? This is a big planet." Karl "Helo" Agathon tried to keep his voice down. The people who had been shouting that had been ahead of him hadn't gotten very far. They were huddled in a group by the spaceport's entrance, their luggage littered all around them. If the situation hadn't been so messed up, it would have made him laugh. Even with three children, Dee had packed light in comparison to some of the people with their giant bags. He had never lost the habit of being able to fit everything he owned into one bag, and Dee had the kids things under control.

"Yes, this is a big planet, sir," the spaceport concierge said patiently, "but we've got over one hundred unexpected ship arrivals, and yours is one of the last to disembark passengers. This is an unexpected problem. We don't normally host so many off world guests… We do have some government officials arranging temporary shelters for those who don't have unique environmental needs. Betazed is very similar in climate to Earth." The Betazed man nodded towards the growing group of people at the spaceport entrance. "Do you have any friends or family on Betazed? Do you know anyone here at all?"

Helo considered and glanced at Dee, who nodded as she cuddled the baby. He doubted it would work but…. "I know Ambassador Luxwana Troi. So does Dee. We met her a few years ago."

"I've met her at some functions on Earth," Dee added. "I wouldn't claim to be close friends with her though…But we've met and she and her daughter Deanna are the only people from Betazed we know."

The space port attendant stared at her and then at Helo with an odd piercing gaze. "Everyone knows the Ambassador. You're not claiming to be one of her long lost lovers, or her best friend, that's a point in your favor." He seemed to nod, and then handed them some metallic disks that Helo realized instantly were a sort of electronic id. "The Ambassador will send a vehicle for you. These let you in to the diplomat lounge."

"Aren't you going to even call her?" Helo asked after a moment. He didn't want to turn down the offer, not with three toddlers in tow.

The attendant smiled suddenly. "I already have. She recalls both of you fondly, by the way, and has invited you to stay at her estate while this situation gets sorted out. Normally that's well within transporter range, but because of the unprecedented issues, the spaceport is restricting transporter use for official use only. If I know the Ambassador, you won't have to wait long."

Helo and Dee both took the metallic disks. Helo also grabbed Lyle, Dee's oldest, who was looking ready to bolt. He knew that look from when Hera was that age, and Jack and Trinity as well, and suddenly he felt a harsh pang of worry. Sharon had their three children on New Caprica, their youngest was just a little younger than Dee and Felix's, and he was suddenly thankful that they weren't stuck in the middle of the mess.

"You behave yourself, Lyle, and let Uncle Karl hold your hand," Dee said as they walked to the lounge. She had the baby in the carryall bassinet and Caroline in the stroller. "Karl, I am so glad you're here. Is it just me, or does no one seem to know what's going on?"

"It's not you," Karl said after a long moment. He waited until they took seats at a small table in the nicely appointed diplomat lounge to continue. "Communication being down is a giant red flag, and you know that."

Dee nodded, her eyes suddenly intent. "I'd expect a communication black out on New Atlantis simply because of the distance and the reality that its not a main hub or even close to a main hub. And if equipment fails, its not always easy to get it fixed or replaced quickly. But Betazed is a major world, in a well populated sector of space. They shouldn't be completely shut down and neither should all of these ships. Something is interrupting subspace communication." She looked at him worriedly. "The best way to start an attack is to remove the other side's ability to call for help or back up."

Karl nodded, relieved he didn't have to explain his fears. Dee was still a reserve officer in the New Atlantean fleet and she had brought her skills up to Starfleet standards since she was married to Felix and had the opportunity. "It reminds me of….

With a New Atlantean, he didn't have to specify what he meant.

Dee nodded. "I think this is an attack on the Federation. Felix said it was a matter of time before someone took the Federation by surprise. The question is, what are we going to do?" She looked worriedly at her children. "We could be stuck here for a while."

"We're a team, Dee," Karl said, taking her hand reassuringly. "And look around. This isn't anything like Caprica and Sharon and I survived. Don't worry, we'll be ok." And if he was secretly glad that Sharon and the kids were well away from the mess on New Atlantis, he intended to keep that to himself.


	10. Chapter 10

"That's unacceptable," Gaeta said tiredly. The headache wasn't worse, but after listening to the opposed parties argue, it wasn't better either. He was frustrated, and tired, and no one was prepared to be reasonable. "Putting the Cylon refugee camp on a completely different continent will, I am sure, make everyone feel better, but it would be an organizational and supply nightmare. Who do you think is going to handle setting up an entirely new infrastructure? On a separate continent?" And he could see that neither Roslin or Six were truly listening to his words. They were busy glaring at each other. He glanced around the table. Kara and the Two were also glaring, but Admiral Adama caught his eye and nodded slightly. The older man leaned away from the table, signaling that he didn't intend to interfere.

"What do you propose, Cmdr. Gaeta?" Roslin asked. He had heard that sort of cold, ugly tone of voice from her before, but never directed at him before. Which means, he thought with no small amount of concern, that she won't like what I say.

"I propose that the settlement be set up adjacent to the colonial military's main ground base." Judging by the frowns, neither Roslin or Six understood why.

"That's too close to the main township. For security reasons, I think there should be some separation." Roslin's words were cold.

"I agree," Six said. "Obviously there is some potential for… ugly incidents, on both sides, and we would prefer some separation."

"That's too bad," Gaeta said, his temper rising. He tapped the computer built into the table and brought up a series of charts displaying the station's current resources. "Let me explain the current situation. The Federation is at war. We haven't gotten any official contact or orders, but I am going to take Commander Six's word and accept that it's the Dominion. That, by the way, is a worst case situation. Until I receive orders to do something different, my responsibility is to defend this system to the best of Starfleet's ability. That means I am pulling every member of Starfleet from their research positions here and at the New Atlantis FTL Institute and I am recalling any reservists in the area so I can arm and staff the three training vessels that don't yet officially belong to New Atlantis. And I won't have enough people, which means I will have to ask Admiral Adama to second some of the trained colonials to Starfleet. I may even need any Cylon experts. What that means is that Admiral Adama will in turn have to pull anyone and everyone he can back into a uniform to keep your local military ready. That leaves you with too few people to build a completely separate colony on the other end of this planet. I may be able to spare a few people to act as security between the two groups, but I do not have several hundred people to hand over to you to assist you." It also ignored the fact that as soon as communication as reestablished, if the situation was bad enough, Surprise would be pulled and reassigned to fight. He doubted anyone had considered that.

"The military base has that new section that was being set up as permanent housing for military families," Adama offered. "The commander has a very valid point about staffing and where Starfleet needs to focus. He's right. We can't afford to waste time when there's an easy solution right in front of us."

Thank you, Gaeta though tiredly. If there was a flaw in assigning him to the colonials sector, it was the issue of authority. Roslin, and Adama, and most of their senior people, had spent years giving him orders. Even the Cylon, if she had been on New Caprica And Bill Adama was letting him take the hit from Roslin, he realized after a moment. Adama had come to the same conclusions he had about staffing and supplies. Which wasn't exactly something he appreciated but at least someone was agreeing with him. The Two that was Six's second in command seemed to be nodding as well, another good sign. "So we have a workable solution."

"We do not," Roslin said angrily. The Six glared as well.

"Why don't we take a short break," Adama said after a long moment. " To consider the idea?" He gave Roslin a meaningful look.

"What sort of game are you playing here," Laura snapped as the door to the small conference room closed, leaving her alone with Bill Adama. She was angry, Bill realized, and in a way that meant it was a good thing he had called for a break.

"You're being unrealistic, and Cmdr. Gaeta is about to pull rank on you," Bill said it gently. "You're usually better at this than I am, Laura, but you're a politician and not a military leader and you're letting your anger get the best of you." And he suspected that the Cylons were having a similar discussion, but he didn't draw her attention to it. "Gaeta is dancing around the fact that he's actually the one in charge." Not doing a great job of it either, in Bill's opinion, but it was a bizarre situation the younger man was in. "He's right. We are at war. He doesn't have the manpower to let you settle the Cylons in a remote place. He's trying to let you and Commander Six save face and come to the same conclusions he has without rubbing it in your face that technically, you have to follow his orders on this."

"What?" she said darkly.

"We are *Federation citizens* now," Adama said. He had suspected that Laura hadn't fully internalized what that really meant and that would make things harder. "Gaeta is in charge of the sector," until he was ordered into the fight with Surprise, and Bill suspected Laura hadn't realized that either, "and he controls all the Starfleet personnel and he is going to make decisions that take into account Starfleet's position first. He's allowing this discussion so that we can come to an amicable solution with the Cylons, so that both sides can walk away feeling as though their concerns were addressed, but the reality, Laura, is that he can order the Cylon refugee camp to be in the center of New Atlantis's main settlement." He let her consider that for a long moment. "From a supply and convenience standpoint, it's a perfect solution. You've already got a new apartment complex being built."

"That is ridiculous and I'd protest that, strenuously," Laura said, her eyes flashing.

"Protest to who? Starfleet?" He sighed. "Laura, right now, communications are completely down. There's no one to protest to. When communication is back, this will be considered a very minor issue at best. And you'll lose. And…"

"And what?" She looked concerned.

"Has it occurred to you that this is the worst case scenario for Starfleet? This Dominion makes Cylons look like nothing. I've read the reports. I read Cmdr. Gaeta's paper on Starfleet readiness. There are major colonies near the Cylons colony world and they've fallen." Bill looked at her worriedly. "You need to compromise on this, Laura, because we may need to use the Cylons to defend our world."

"That's insane." She said it coldly and began to pace around the room. A good sign, Bill thought. It meant she was starting to think beyond her initial reaction. "How bad do you think this could get?"

"Gaeta could be over reacting," he allowed, "but I doubt it. At the very least, we have to consider what his actions will do to our own preparedness." He almost smiled at her sudden realization.

"If he pulls all of the Starfleet personnel at the FTL Institute, that'll cascade through the colony," she said after a moment.

"I don't think he's over reacting," Bill added, "So I won't be refusing him when he asks for the military personnel who have trained on the Starfleet vessels, and I will have to pull all the reservists to maintain our defenses."

"Which means we're going to be desperately short handed," Roslin said. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. "And the more conciliatory we are right now, the more likely Cmdr Gaeta is to take our side in any disagreement over smaller issues." She sighed heavily. "So we're going to have Cylons as neighbors."

"Hopefully this won't end as badly as the last time," Bill said.

"It's hard to think it could end any worse," Laura said, her voice cold with suppressed anger.


	11. Chapter 11

The problem with patrols was that things got boring. When things got boring, people started talking. Major Brendon "Hotdog" Costanza didn't mind a little chatter on a patrol. But when everyone was flying weapons free, he didn't feel like refereeing a political and religious argument combined. "Give it a rest, Dogboy."

"I have the right to freedom of religious speech," Dogboy said, his tone suddenly wary even through the wireless.

"As do we all, Ensign" Hotdog said easily, "but you're flying a Viper, on a long range patrol and there's a possibility of hostilities. Keep your focus on your scans. The last thing we need is some alien ship getting through and attacking without warning."

"Like some damn Cylons," snickered Treetops. She laughed. "I heard they're setting up shop at the airbase. Can't wait to see the reception Tigh gives them."

"Can't wait to see the reception Tigh gives Commander Gaeta after the Cylons move in," Boots added. Hotdog had to admit, he agreed with both sentiments but it was continuing the argument.

"Colonel Tigh won't question the will of Felix Apollo if he is wise," Dogboy intoned ominously.

Hotdog struggled not to laugh. Wilson "Dogboy" Piper had been all of 15 when the fleet had reached Federation space. He had been living on the Pixus, and Hotdog doubted he had ever met Felix Gaeta. The followers of Felix Apollo with rare exception had never seen the object of their devotion except in vids or from a distance on New Caprica. The very idea that his CAG used to shower with and play cards with the Lord Felix Apollo certainly made Dogboy more prone to following his orders, and led to questions about what Gaeta was really like, but Brendon doubted any of the Felix Apollo worshippers wanted the truth. "Dogboy, shut your mouth and check your scanners, or else you'll have more to worry about than the Cylon settlement.

Brendon shook his head inside his own Mark 8 viper as Dogboy pealed off on his search pattern. Dogboy had a fantasy character built up in his mind of what Felix Gaeta was like, and Brendon hoped the reality didn't cause problems. His friend Felix, the man he had known, had never made Colonel Tigh quake in fear. Far from it. He knew both men were past what had happened with the Circle, he'd attended Gaeta's welcome party along with all the old hands, but in the old days, especially after New Caprica, Gaeta had always been looking over his shoulder because of Tigh.

He doubted a kid like Dogboy could understand. The younger man saw Tigh as an aging crank, a strict bastard but essentially a good man, soon to retire to his increasingly successful farming venture. Dogboy was a rarity, the Felix Apollo worshippers were usually older and civilian, but he was like a lot of the newer, younger people in the fleet. They had joined after New Atlantis, when there was no war, and after Saul Tigh got control of his drinking. Most of them remembered New Caprica as a cold, dirty camping trip, they didn't know how crazy violent things had been.

They didn't understand that it wasn't exciting that contact had been lost with Starfleet and that the Cylons were there. It meant war was coming. People were going to die, He had been twenty one when the Cylons had attacked and twenty six when they had found the Federation. Now he was thirty one, and he wanted to live a whole lot longer. "Keep your eyes open and stop the chatter."

The four Viper pilots flew in silence. Then the long range scanner built into the ship began to chime. He looked at the scan. It was outside the system, three ships and per the Starfleet computer, the ships were Jem'hader scouts. They appeared to be having engine problems, if he understood the info on the screen. He made the decision. "Everyone turn around, there's nothing out here but rocks and trash." Code, and a smart idea. If the Dominion and Jem'Hader were as bad as the Federation thought, then they were probably listening to their communications. Mark 8 Vipers were head and shoulders above the Mark 2 and 7 models that he had flown against the Cylons, but until the weapons ban was lifted, they weren't able to stand against an opponent with phasers or photon torpedos. Their orders, if they spotted anything, was to note the position and turn around. The Starfleet ship Gaeta had brought would then deal with it.

Everyone acknowledged his order in an instant. That was good. He had a feeling that they were going to need that discipline. As they moved away, Hotdog saw a Starfleet vessel pop up on the scanner. Not one of their assigned trainings, but something similar, a _Miranda _class. He hoped they didn't do anything stupid.

"Scanners indicate three Jem'Hader scouts, that appear to be having problems with their warp drive. The five smaller craft are… New Atlantean fighter single pilot fighter craft. I think. They're barely giving off anything to scan, no warp and the subspace signals are… different." The lieutenant at the conn station looked up from her scanner. "They're moving away. Because of their odd signature and lack of warp the Jem'Hader may not have spotted them."

All the better for the New Atlanteans, Captain Juan Rico thought. He dredged up what he knew about the system from memory. Refugees, human, from the Beta Quadrant, who had been given a world to settle on. "What sort of defenses does New Atlantis have?"

"They have standard drone system defenses," his tactical officer said. "They have a large vessel that's a sort of flying weapons platform that can launch the smaller craft we just scanned… but its all very primitive. Rail guns with chemical based explosives, shields that are actual metal shields. They're probationary members so they aren't allowed weapons. There is a Star base in the system, DS34. It's a bit more heavily armed than average. As part of their treaty, the New Atlanteans have three Startfleet vessels that they are using to learn Federation technology from. When the probationary period expires, the ships will be officially turned over to New Atlantis."

Which meant the ships were old rattle traps. And he'd already seen how easily a starbase could be cut apart by even small Jem'Hader ships. "Any chance they had a patrol ship visiting when the balloon went up?"

"Not according to the schedule," the tactical officer replied. "They do have some sort of prototype ship assigned, an escort frigate that was supposedly designed for the Borg."

Even better, Rico thought worriedly. He had heard about the prototypes and how they tended to blow their engines up. "And where are the Jem'Hader heading?" He knew. Ever since the invasion had begun, it had been very clear that the Dominion had no problem with going in and razing a colony to the ground if it was easy pickings. New Atlantis was easy pickings, even for Jem'Hader scoutships with warp problems. That meant he and the crew of the USS Jedikiah had to step in. He assessed their readiness. They'd taken out some raiders the day before, bigger targets and a hard fight but the ship was ready. "All right, people," he said to the crew, "we can't let these bastards pounce on a defenseless system. Red alert, everyone to battle stations. Once we take these scouts out, we'll head to DS 34 and see what they've heard."

Rico watched the Jem'Hader scouts start to limp away. He didn't bother to hail them. Before communications had failed so spectacularly, Starfleet had declared a state of war against the Dominion.

As the three ships suddenly powered and spun on the Jedikiah, he realized it was too late that he'd been lulled into a trap.

"Gods damn it," Gaeta muttered as he looked at the wreckage of the USS Jedikiah. "How many survivors did we pick up?" he asked Morales. The USS Jedikiah had sounded a distress call that the New Atlantian patrol had relayed to the station. By the time they had gotten there, the Jedikiah was in its death throes. They had taken out all three of the Jem'Hader scouts, but at the cost of the ship. It made his blood boil with rage. He hadn't known Juan Rico, but the man had a good reputation and he knew exactly what the officer had been thinking. Rico had thought the system was defenseless and that the Jem'Hader ships were crippled. He had taken on the Jem'Hader ships because he either didn't know that Surprise was assigned to Aurora Station or he discounted the ship because of the reputation that the prototype ships had gained in the fleet, some of which was fair due to the numerous problems caused by the warp drive. He'd sacrificed his ship over a battle the Surprise could have easily won.

"We've found 23." Morales said. "Engineering crewmen mostly, the highest ranking one is a lieutenant junior grade, the rest are enlisted. Most are injured pretty badly. The Bradbury has them all." The Bradbury was one of the creaky old Constellation class ships that the colonials used for training. Old and even less able to defend itself than the Jedikiah but it had a larger sickbay.

"Lets head back then. Contact Admiral Adama and Commander Six. I need to speak with them both as soon as possible." Gaeta sighed heavily as the ship turned around. By the time they got back to the station, his plan was almost fully formed, and talking with the few survivors from the Jedikiah confirmed it.

He wasn't surprised that Cmdr. Six and a Three acting as her assistant rose when he and Barclay and Grossen entered the briefing room. He was surprised that Adama and Tigh also stood. Tigh was annoyed but Adama seemed cool and collected. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I know you're aware of the loss of the USS Jedikiah. We were able to rescue some of the crew. Before the communications blackout occurred, the Federation declared a state of war with the Dominion." He let that sink in.

"The Jedikiah was a Miranda class," Adama said easily. "Not a top of the line vessel, but not like the Bradbury, Stirling, or Kochanski either. And the Jem'Hader ships were scouts."

"From what I can tell, Captain Rico was taken by surprise, and the ship, while not badly damaged, was still recovering from an earlier battle. But it raises some concerns." Gaeta said. "I know the Galactica recently finished a refit. Major Thrace implied that that the Galactica was essentially ready to have Federation weapons replace the rail guns. Is that true?"

He wasn't surprised that Grossen's eyes narrowed in anger. He was going to have a problem there, it was just a matter of how big of a problem. Adama looked surprised by his question only for a moment.

"Yes. While we appreciate the ships that the Federation has sent, we didn't feel they would be adequate in the long term for defense. And frankly it was less expense to adapt the Galactica than finance a new ship when the probation period expires." Adama said easily.

"We… did something similar with the basestar," Six offered, her expression alert.

"How difficult would it be to install Federation weapons? I specifically need a time frame." At that, Grossen stood up.

"Sir, if you're proposing arming these people with Federation weapons, it is my duty to remind you that it is a violation of Federation law." Grossen managed to sound enraged despite his even tone.

"War has been declared, Mr. Grossen." Gaeta was inwardly pleased that everyone including Saul Tigh flinched at his tone. "As soon as communication is restored, Surprise will be reassigned, leaving these people defenseless. The reason the weapons restriction was placed was due to fears that the Cylons and the colonials would wage war on each other. That's no longer a concern."

"You don't have the authority to make that call, *sir*." Grossen snarled, his anger now plain on his face. "You're not a captain, or in command of the sector. Your connection to these people compromises your decisions. For the record, I demand that you step down."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the man. Instead, he stood up and stared the slightly taller man in the face. "For the record, Cmdr. Grossen, I deny your *request*. You're relieved of duty. You're restricted to your quarters."

"What?" Grossen shot back, his posture deflated only a little. "You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can. You've made your point on the record, Cmdr., so when this war is resolved, I'll have to answer to the high command about my actions. Until then, I won't need an executive officer who publicly questions my orders. You can go to your quarters or you can go to the brig. It's your choice."

Grossen straightened. "The brig, sir," he said evenly.

Of course, Gaeta thought with a sigh, the brig made him more of a martyr, at least in his mind. It was a problem but not the worst one, he thought as the security guards were called. Grossen was competent but he had come to realize that the man resented him. He had assumed it was over being passed over for command of the station and now he knew the truth. Grossen thought he was a flawed commander. No doubt Grossen thought he had gotten away with Prime Directive violations as well. He was just glad both the colonials and the Cylons kept silent throughout the whole business. At least until the security guards were gone.

"Is it true," Six asked after the guards had left. "Are you exceeding your command authority in arming us?" She was curious, he realized. Not sympathetic, just curious, which made it easier.

"Not in my opinion. It is true that only a captain or the head of the sector can unlock the weapons technology in the replicator systems, but despite my rank, I am the captain of the Surprise and I do have the access." The real problem would happen after the war was won, and he decided not to worry about his reputation in Starfleet until then. "I'll let the officers at the court martial decide. In the meantime, I can't take Surprise to the fight until I know the system can defend itself. I know you've got five industrial replicators. I'll have the technology accessible within an hour."

"I'll get crews ready to work," Adama said.

Six nodded as well, and he ended the meeting. He wasn't surprised that Adama hung back.

"How much trouble are you going to be in, Mr. Gaeta?" Adama asked. It wasn't a request. Not really.

He decided to be honest. "Potentially? A lot. It will depend on who makes it out of this mess alive. I'm making the right call, and it has nothing do with spending ten years living as a member of the Twelve Colonies."

"But Grossen is technically correct, if I understand the law," Adama pressed.

"Yes. It's a technical loophole that I have access to the codes." He didn't bother to add that he didn't actually need the codes, considering his gifts. His detractors would certainly make that point when the time came. "But it's what has to be done, and I understand the possible consequences. So please don't let your people blow the hell out of the Cylon basestar."

The older man smiled thinly. "Considering you're arming them as well, I doubt that will be an issue. You do realize President Roslin isn't going to be happy about that."

"I know, but she'll have to deal with it." It hadn't occurred to him, actually. Another problem.

Adama patted his shoulder. "Son, I have to give you credit. When you decide to roll the hard six, you really do it."


	12. Chapter 12

It was out of place, which drew her attention. Capt. Margaret "Racetrack" Edmonson had patrolled the system before. New Atlantis was the only habitable planet in their own system, and the nearby systems were pretty typical, gas giants, and barren rocks. The planets weren't habitable even by the more exotic standards of the Federation, and while there were some mining interests that had snuffled around looking for precious metals, there was seldom anything different to see.

"I've got a small cylindrical object, at about ninety degrees on the DRADIS," she said quietly. Takeout was the pilot for the mission, but she was in command.

"Nothing shows on the main scanner, sir" Takeout replied. "But… yeah, when I switch to DRADIS, there is something. Something metal… Not much signature but there's some power."

A suspicion rose in her mind as she considered what she was seeing. DRADIS was old school technology. Raptors were big enough that the new Federation technology could be retrofitted in without removing the DRADIS systems, although there had been talk that the next generation of Raptors would lose it from the design. Federation ships didn't have DRADIS. She understood why, it was rather primitive compared to their scanners that could track a lone life form on a planet. At the same time, there was a massive communications black out in the Federation, and Federation scanners weren't finding anything. "Check the sub scanners…. I know this wasn't here before."

She checked her scanners as well. There was something very odd about the object. "Let's circle around it, and see what happens. If it isn't booby trapped, I want to take this back to the Galactica."

"The researchers at NAIT wouldn't mind a peak at it either, I bet," Takeout said after a minute. She nodded, pleased that he made the connection. There had been next to no real education for the kids in the fleet during the years that they had been running. The younger ones were able to catch up, it was harder for the older ones but it seemed like Takeout at least was taking advantage of the programs being offered. It was more the Admiral's problem, she knew, but the days of a officer needing to be able fly and nothing more were already long gone. There would be a place for people who were good with flight controls for as long as the Admiral was in charge, but no one lived forever. Takeout looked back at her, his expression slyly amused. "Looks like we have a reason to swing by your boyfriend's place… sir."

"Reg isn't my boyfriend," she said easily. "But…" She whistled appreciatively as they came up upon the object, "you have to admit, he's just the kind of person who could figure out what that thing is." She wasn't so certain that she was no longer interested in Reg Barclay, their problem had always been too little time together and too much distance, but she knew that Reg was the person who needed to see the odd little probe that was floating in front of the Raptor.

"This is clever," Barclay said as he scanned the device that sat on the deck. "The technology is incredible. The dampening effect alone is amazing." He peered at the device intently.

Bill Adama frowned. He was already annoyed that Racetrack had her Starfleet boyfriend called before she even reported in on her patrol but he couldn't deny that Lt. Cmdr. Reg Barclay was insanely clever. The problem was that Barclay was… difficult to deal with. A military officer, and a genius, and he knew all too well that the two didn't mix well. Gaeta, he had realized, was brilliant but not a genius intellect and had probably leaned much more to the scientific side of Starfleet when he had been a cadet at Starfleet Academy, and living in the colonies had changed him. That Barclay and Gaeta had been friends was a clue. Barclay didn't have that tempering, and Adama rather doubted living for one hundred years in the Twelve Colonies would have stopped Reg Barclay from being a compulsive neurotic. "Cmdr. Barclay, would you care to enlighten the rest of us?"

As Barclay's face lit up with pleasure, Bill realized his mistake. Barclay went into a lengthy lecture of physics, mechanical dynamics and exotic functions. Barclay went on and on, it became obvious after a few moments that he had found something important but Adama had no idea what.

"What does that mean?" he said as Barclay stopped to take a breath. Even the Starfleet assistants he had brought had looked puzzled through out the man's technical speech.

That was why Adama was shocked when Racetrack raised her hand. "He means this thing is part of why all Federation communications are down. It's got a fairly short range, but more importantly, it lacks a warp power signature so Federation ships would need to know exactly what they are looking for in order to find it."

"You followed me?" Barclay asked, his expression both surprised and delighted. Adama was surprised as well and made a mental note to check on what sort of coursework Margaret Edmondson had been busying herself with. She had been working at the FTL Institute, he recalled, and apparently had learned a few things.

"What, you think I can't keep up with you?" Racetrack said. She smirked at Barclay. Then she said something else, in a language Adama didn't recognize. Barclay certainly did, if the sudden blush to his face was any indication. He hated to ruin the fun but there was a time crunch involved.

"So this little device is what's causing the communication disruption?" he asked.

"Not just this device, but yes." Barclay said. "This technology is actually similar to your own, Admiral. On the surface it looks very simple. Federation scanners wouldn't pick it up because of the low energy signature. It's essentially a drone. I'm not entirely certain what the Dominion is using for a power source or how they're disrupting our communication but this is what is causing the problem. What's interesting is that because of the low energy readings, the effective range can't be that large."

"Wireless communications are still working in the system but Aurora Station is reporting that subspace communications are not. Which means our first job is to find the off switch, but that also tells us that our system isn't seeded with one of these drones." Barclay said. He gestured to the device. "My recommendation is that we transport it to the facilities at the New Atlantis FTL Institute."

"You're certain it's not dangerous?" Adama knew the device had been scanned before he had allowed it to come aboard, but if it was going planet side, it didn't hurt to be extra careful. Laura would highly upset if the alien drone blew up the colony.

"The Institute does have a test facility on the other side of the planet," Racetrack said easily. "It's a little primitive, compared to the main facility but if there is something dangerous about this drone, better to have it away from populated areas. Although the scans didn't pick up anything other than a low level power source and the dampening field that's causing the communication problems."

So it had paid to stand down the military over the last five years, Adama thought as she spoke. He had been against it, the memory of New Caprica was still too fresh, but letting the majority of people assume reserve status and rotate between training and civilian life had worked out. Instead of diluting his force, now he had technical experts of his own. A good thing. "Take it there, and advise President Roslin every step of the way." He pulled Racetrack aside as everyone began to move. "Next time, Captain, report to me first when you find something scientifically interesting. Is that understood?"

She gulped nervously. "Yes sir."

"Good. Now go help your boyfriend get this thing off my deck." He watched for a moment as the crew began to swirl around the device, and then moved to the stairwell of the catwalk as another Raptor began to offload personnel. Called up reservists, he saw, carrying duffle bags of gear. It was going to hurt the planet's industrial capacity but he hoped some of them would be able to return fairly quickly. He needed everyone he could get for the weapons refit, and the sooner it was done, the safer everyone would feel. With the refit though, he just didn't need as many people on the ship and he hoped to return some of them to civilian duty within weeks.

He was surprised though, when Lee stepped out of the Raptor, in uniform and carrying a bag. Lee spotted him and strode over, saluting smartly as he assumed the position of attention. "Colonel Adama reporting as ordered, sir."

Adama saluted back. "Your position in the government grants you an exemption from the call up, Colonel." He hadn't wanted to strip Laura of every skilled hand. Military personnel who held critical positions in the colony were either completely exempted or were filling in groundside.

"I can still fly a Raptor," Lee said after a moment. "I took the training on the Federation weapons and some of your junior officers haven't. And it sets a good example." In a lower voice he added, "President Roslin doesn't want there to be any appearance of impropriety. There's been some loose talk that exemptions from the call up are based on favoritism and not on critical positions. She asked anyone who could avoid exempting to do so. And a vice president isn't exactly a critical role…" Lee shrugged, his expression amiable.

"Who is making trouble?" Bill asked, although he could already guess.

"Zarek, mostly," Lee said. Bill was pleased that Lee shared his irritation. "And Sarah Porter has about a third of the Gemonese demanding the Cylons not be allowed to leave the base. Its annoying the hell out of Erica Janne. On the plus side, High Priest Venner has ordered all members of the Felix Apollo temple to do as Lord Felix does and embrace our Cylon brothers and sisters. He's on the next flight by the way."

Adama sighed. "Those people are going to be trouble," he said after a long moment.

"Right now, they aren't trouble," Lee countered. "Right now they're volunteering as safety escorts and assisting the Cylons with their children. Dad, I don't know what's in the water on Cylonia but most of the Cylons have at least two children now or more. Oh, and Dr. Cottle asked me to let you know he was taking the transporter up tomorrow."

Another one with an exemption. "No. Jack is too damn old, and we've got plenty of other medical people." Fortunately there had been a lot of interest from the civilians in the fleet and new colonists in the medical profession and Cottle had insisted on shipping his best interns to Federation medical schools as a priority.

"He said you'd say that, and to remind you that you are a year younger than he is, sir." Lee smirked.

It was already a lost fight but he would have to try. "Since when was Cottle fine with transporting?" The crew used transporters because it was necessary but it hadn't escaped him that most of the older crewmen didn't care for it.

Lee looked at him in surprise. "Dad, Dr. Cottle insisted on using the transporter. He loves them. He says they make him feel great. He wants to have everyone tested for Palamas indicators to see if the people who say they feel great after transporting have the genes. Apparently, it is nearly fool proof."

Another issue, but one that he could pass back to Laura. He wondered when he'd have time to do more than say hello to her. The destruction of the Jedikiah meant that the threat was real, and that meant there was a good chance they'd be fighting soon.

He wished suddenly that Lee had taken the exemption the way he was supposed to.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's note - sorry there's been a lengthy delay on this story. I have been a little stalled but I think its moving again. Thanks for your patience.

"Sir, Commander Six is here to see you." The marine was new, Bill realized. Stiff, and young. He hadn't kept a full compliment of marines on the ship since they had arrived at New Atlantis. There hadn't been a need, and most of the reserve marines worked as part of the civilian police force, which was turning into another headache for Laura. He hoped to give her some of them back once the overhaul was done, but he wouldn't know how many he'd need until more decisions were made.

Decisions were going to be made soon. The weapons install, photon torpedo banks and phaser banks, was almost done on the Galactica. He wanted time to test fire everything, to make sure it was all going to work, before Gaeta left. That Gaeta was going to take his ship and head to more well trafficked Federation space was understood, even if the man hadn't said as much. Gaeta was a Starfleet officer and once he was certain that the colony wasn't completely defenseless, he was going to take his ship and head to the fight. Especially if the scientists were right about the drone that Racetrack had found. They had at least managed to turn the damn thing off and Gaeta was having the three older ships carefully scanning the nearby systems for more of the devices. The drones, and the knowledge of how to find them was why he knew Gaeta would be leaving. That information needed to find its way to the Federation. If there was any Federation left.

An ugly thought but one that had to be considered. New Atlantis was fairly isolated. Unlike Cylonia, it wasn't near any major systems. It wasn't surprising, from a strategic standpoint, that they hadn't been attacked. The reports from the Jedikiah's survivors and the scanners confirmed that the ships that the Dominion had sent had been scout craft, not a heavily armed invasion force. A scout mission or possibly a clean up crew. The Federation had been completely unprepared for an attack. He'd read Gaeta's paper on the state of Starfleet's preparedness, and it wouldn't shock him to find out the war was already over.

Commander Natalie Six walked into his quarters. She was smartly attired in the Cylonia version of a fleet uniform. Their ship uniforms had a more utilitarian look, dark green and less insignia, but it still amused him that they used the same rank pins as the fleet of the Twelve Colonies used. She smiled as she spotted the painting of the last battle over Scorpio. "I hadn't realized that you'd salvaged any art other than the Arrow of Apollo, Admiral Adama."

"That was a gift from my family," he said after a moment. "When I became a commander. It was here when the attack occurred."

She nodded, apparently not put off by his cold tone. "We're almost done installing the new weapons. Judging by how your people looked as I walked up here from your flight deck, I suspect you're close to completion as well. I was hoping we could discuss what will happen next." She took a seat on his leather couch.

A good question, not one he was entirely ready to discuss. "Why didn't you transport? I know you have a transporter on the base star now."

Six shrugged nonchalantly. "You didn't know? No, I imagine you might not. Cylons can transport but it's an uncomfortable process for us. The nanite colonies in our bodies don't handle it well. Unless it's an emergency, we prefer not to use transporters." She paused. "Our children, of course, being fully human with no nanite enhancement won't have that concern.

And Cylons did not have Palamas indicators in their genetic code either. That fact was not common knowledge, and he was suddenly glad it hadn't been disseminated. He suspected the Cylons were stuck on New Atlantis for the duration of the war. There were already people, the Felix Apollo worshippers were the loudest but not the only ones in the colony, who wanted to know for certain whether they had the genes or not. He was against allowing the testing, and if the current crisis had put it on a back burner, it was still something that would have to be dealt with. "That's interesting," he said finally.

"No, it's not," Six said curtly. "If anything it's bad for us, because any number of factions here will consider our lack to be a sign that we are not as good as those who have the indicators. I might, because of the nanites inside me, be able to kill you, and manage to fight my way off this ship… maybe. My two sons certainly won't, and they also don't have the genetic bonus of Palamas indicators. We're genetic have-nots here."

"You'll forgive me if I don't send you a sympathy card," Bill said after a moment. He wondered if it had even occurred to her that her example was precisely how Admiral Cain had been murdered. Yes, he thought as he looked her in the eye, she used that example for a reason. So I won't make it easy. "What are your thoughts on what happens next?"

She nodded almost imperceptivity, as if accepting his rebuke. "Commander Gaeta will leave. He's clearly planning to leave the three scrub ships here, it's obvious from his assignments that he's testing out his junior officers. And yours."

"And yours," he added quickly. Gaeta hadn't kept that a secret but he had hardly paraded the fact around to the New Atlanteans. "If I have his sense of fair play judged correctly, he'll be assigning command to one New Atlantean, one Starfleet officer, and one Cylonian, with whoever he leaves running the star base in over all command."

"That was my theory as well." She smiled slightly. "He can be very predictable…. And then I remind myself that we're sitting here today because he's good at keeping the unpredictable things about himself hidden. Regardless, the question I have is whether you plan to go with him?"

"I've considered it. That's one of several options." Not the option he preferred for a number of reasons, but ultimately the simplest option. "Let me be blunt. We believe that the Federation is owed a debt. They rescued us, they took us, and no matter how interested they might be in the FTL system, it doesn't repay the fact that we were close to death and the Federation took us in and treated us with dignity and respect. So regardless of whether Cmdr. Gaeta asks for local assistance, I would be considering action."

"But you have a base star floating above your new colony and that certainly isn't helping matters." Six said. She leaned back on the couch casually. "We're having a calm, rational discussion, correct? Between you and I, let's be honest. President Roslin isn't comfortable at all with the base star being here. She'll be less comfortable if the Galactica leaves. She'll feel threatened. Most of your people would feel threatened."

"I'm afraid I don't know how to alleviate that fear. Cylons did kill over thirty billion humans. I assume you recall the bloody holocaust and war?" He didn't care that his voice was edged with anger.

"I know a way," she said, her words careful. "I've already cleared what I am about to propose to you, with the Cylonia civilian counsel." Bill nodded. An official offer then, not unexpected, but surprising how quickly they moved. Six cocked her head as if she realized what he was thinking. "I think we should combine our military forces for the duration of this crisis. You're more experienced than I with war time command, and frankly there are some gaps in our abilities."

"You think I'm more experienced? If I recall, you won our last war." It was fun to play the old political games sometimes. He rarely got the chance to talk with a fellow military commander that wasn't in awe of him for being "the" admiral or looking down on him as a provincial yokel. Natalie Six seemed respectful, but not without her own share of confidence.

"Cylons won that war," she said easily, "by a sneak attack not unlike the one I suspect the Federation is now dealing with. However, the ones who planned that attack have since been deactivated. My initial training was as an infiltrator. When we began taking more active roles, I… learned how to fix the engines and the fighters, and then when the Centurions turned on us, I was the last one standing with any military training or interest in ships." She leaned forward. "I'm good. I'm not going to suggest you're some sort of tactical genius or that I don't have the ability to lead the fleet in a tactical sense. But I *can't* lead this fleet because I will always be a Cylon. I could assist in leading this fleet under you, if you endorse the plan. Your people trust you implicitly, and my people trust me the same way. One of us has to be in charge, and in order to save us all, that person has to be you. I told President Roslin that I would get on my knees and beg if it would save my people and that isn't a lie."

"If… if I accept this at face value," and he wasn't planning to do that just yet, although it definitely solved some problems, "What are you offering?"

"Command of the Cylonia military. I would prefer to stay in command of the base star, but this… suggestion, if accepted, is not contingent on my remaining in command." Six paused. "We're not fools, Admiral. But we are pragmatic. You've taken us in and we're a despised minority here. The children might be accepted… I can see that happening, but your people will never accept you leaving with the Galactica unless we're under your command. Integrating us under your command means you're giving President Roslin ultimate authority over us while you're away."

He waited a moment. "You'd accept that?" Laura was open minded, more so since some time had passed but she despised Cylons to a fault,

Six nodded. "We… we meant well on New Caprica. I know that sounds like a bitter lie, but we were so full of hope, that we could make things right…" She shrugged. "That sounds naïve and silly, hopelessly naïve from your perspective I'm sure… But we did mean well. We wanted it to work. This time, you have the power." She smiled slightly. "I hope you manage better than we did."

He understood her point. If he agreed to her idea, to the idea her people had agreed to, then ultimately humanity would hold the power of life and death over the Cylons. And he did question how well they would wield that power. "I'll need to run this by President Roslin."

"As I understand the New Atlantean government structure, that's a formality, correct?" Six asked. She was clever, Bill thought with sudden respect. Different. She downplayed her looks, unusual in the female Cylons, and seemed to think more independently. He'd often thought, after they had reached the Federation, that one of the reasons that Cylonia hadn't grown as swiftly as New Atlantis was that the Cylons as a rule generally had a herd mentality when it came to command. She knew that while Roslin was ultimately in charge of New Atlantis, military decisions were his to decide. Formally integrating their forces was his call. Natalie Six was sharp.

Another thought to add to the pile, he decided. "It is my decision, yes, but since you'll be soon under my command, its important for you to know that President Roslin appreciates being consulted… and won't especially like this decision of mine. "

He was already anticipating her reaction.


	14. Chapter 14

"Has your father completely lost his mind?" Lee winced at Laura Roslin's tone. It was, what the staff surrounding her called in private moments, her "airlock" tone. He watched as she paced around her office. It was both impressive and frightening, and it suddenly occurred to him what attracted his father to her. They were both the same when angry.

"No, he hasn't." He wasn't comfortable with his father's decision but he couldn't deny that he had already been considering something similar. The Cylons were there, and they weren't going away. He knew Roslin favored isolating the Cylons. "Maybe it's time that we reassess the threat the Cylons pose."

"Gods, not you too," Laura said. She turned to look at him, her eyes sparkling with rage. "Am I the only on who remembers what these… things did? They destroyed the colonies, Lee. They chased us for years. They murdered hundreds on New Caprica by torture. Between the fleet and the Pegasus, we had over fifty one thousand survivors and we landed here with thirty five thousand and that's entirely due to Cylons."

"And now," Lee said gently, "there's over sixty thousand of us, including new settlers who never even met Cylons until the last few weeks. And there's only about fifteen hundred of them, and about six hundred are children that are four and under." He hesitated, because what he was about to say was the verbal equivalent of punching Laura Roslin in the face. "You're allowing your anger and rage to dictate policy and it has to stop, for the sake of the people. Of *all* the people, including our Cylon guests. I don't like Cylons either, but I have read the medical reports and no matter much it makes my skin crawl, the skin jobs are human beings. When this war ends, you and all of us are going to be judged on how we treated fellow human beings. The Cylons offered this to make us more comfortable, and you're a fool if you don't see that they're rolling on their bellies like dogs in order to appease you. Do you realize that the Admiral can remove Commander Six right now? Or order all of the Cylons out of the military? They're extended the hand, knowing damn well that our every instinct is to slap it."

"Don't you dare lecture me, Lee," Roslin hissed.

"Don't treat me like I'm your aide, Madame President," Lee shot back. "I'm the vice president, and your actions are going to affect how much faith the people have in the government. I doubt you've noticed but aside from a small group of people, most of the civilian citizens aren't horrified beyond rational thought at the idea of Cylons being here. They're nervous, worried, and frightened and they're all looking to you to see how you react because they're afraid that Starfleet is getting it's ass handed to it and you're throwing a fit over the Admiral assuming command of a ship that could be used to defend this colony. Out of the adult Cylon population, only two hundred and fifty of them are military and part of the plan is to split their forces with ours. We outnumber them. Do you really think my father would agree to something that would endanger the population?"

0o0o0o0o0

It burned her, to have Lee talk to her that way. "The Earthers have a saying, Lee," she shot back. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

"We outnumber them," Lee repeated after a moment. "They might be enhanced but their children are human. More human than my two children, or Serena's boys with her first husband or Dee and Felix's children and you don't seem to have a problem with that. According to the medical reports, my wife is less human than a Cylon."

A sensitive point for Lee to make, she knew that. Lee caught a lot of negative attention because of Serena. She hadn't been surprised when he had announced his plans to marry Serena, but it caused problems. Political problems for starters, Zarek wasn't the only politician who thought Lee Adama had married Serena to gain political power. It wasn't true, she had been in the political business long enough to know a genuine love match when she saw it, but people talked just the same. And they talked about how human Lee's little boy and girl were, although even Zarek wasn't bold enough to raise the subject to Lee's face. "That's different, Lee."

"Really? Because I recall it being an issue when Marcus, Jerry, and Mike were enrolled in school," Lee shot back. "I recall any number of people worried that being around "alien" children would be bad for their children… Despite their being the nephews of Lord Felix Apollo. And you stood up for them."

"Because we all have Palamas indicators and because…." She stopped herself. Because they were now Federation citizens and had to live by Federation law. "Its not the same, Lee. No one from Pollux 4 ever committed atrocities against our people."

"You're letting your hate control your decisions," Lee said again. He straightened his posture, his expression stern. "We're colleagues and friends. I respect you, and I understand your rage, but I don't agree with you and I will not support you in this. We don't have to embrace them as our best friends. We do have to treat them decently, and you have to take the lead."

If she hadn't been so angry, she might have smiled. People that didn't know Lee Adama well often compared him to his father and found him lacking, but she knew differently. Lee had the same steel that Bill Adama had, it just presented itself differently, more politically. It meant he would be a formidable leader when she decided to leave office. He meant it when he said he wouldn't back her and it wasn't an idle threat. It also, she realized, wasn't an empty threat. He was right, the people were looking to the government to see how to act. If she wanted to, she could whip the people into a frenzy and have every Cylon killed in the settlement in hours. And with the Federation's status unknown, it might not even have the consequence that Lee was worried about.

On the other hand, the very last thing she wanted was for the Federation to be toppled. The Dominion was worse, worse than Cylons or Romulans or any of the Federation's other enemies, and she wasn't fool enough to think that New Atlantis would just be forgotten. It was out of the way, but not invisible. Still…

"I can't forget New Caprica," she said after a long moment. It felt good to say it out loud. "You weren't there, Lee. You don't know what it was like, what *they* were like…" There were nights where she still woke up in a cold sweat from the nightmare, the one where she stood on the edge of the mass grave and was shot instead of being rescued. "When I see one of them… It's all I can do to not…."

"To not tear them apart with your bare hands or just unload a handgun into their brain pans?" Lee nodded. "I wasn't on New Caprica, but believe me, I do understand. You should try what I do when that thought comes to mind."

" And what is that?" she shot back.

"I remind myself that we won." Lee looked at her intently. "We suffered terrible losses, we had to run, we lost our home… but we're still here, we're different but we're still the people of the Twelve Colonies… and the Cylons will all be dead in about sixty years. I'm sure their children will still call themselves Cylons or maybe Cylonians, but they don't have nanites, they're pure human. More purely human than us if you count the Palamas indicators. Real Cylons are an endangered species, and they lost. We survived and they're a pathetic remnant that will slowly dwindle and die." He paused and took a deep breath. "Can't you see that, Laura? Can't you see it in their eyes? That's why they're so baby crazy, they're just desperate to save *something*." He waited a long moment. "It's your decision on how you act. We're at a crossroads, here."

As he said it, the background noise in the building seemed to build. People arguing, outside. Lee heard it as well, and together they went to the open window. Her office overlooked the courtyard and she could see a small crowd scuffling near the entrance that led to the school. Not quite fighting but it was getting there and the police force was only minimally staffed due to the call ups. "Damn it," she said. "Let's see if having the President and Vice President show up calms things down."

Lee nodded. It usually did calm things down, but as they crossed the courtyard, she realized what was causing the problem. Lee was right, she thought as she stepped through the crowd, and I wish this wasn't my call.

On one side of the crowd was a Cylon couple, a Two and a Three. The Two was holding the hand of a red haired little boy, who had a little book bag, while the Three was carrying a baby. There were people from the community with them, some were Felix Apollo followers, but some weren't. Serena Adama was there, a surprise since she rarely took part in political issues, and she had Lee's oldest child by the hand. They were parents with children in the school for the most part, and most appeared to be dropping off their little ones for the afternoon session. And on the steps were other people from the community. More parents, and the school teachers and administrators were standing back and looking nervous.

They were looking to her to see how they should act, she thought. "What seems to be going on here?" she asked as Lee left her side and moved over to his wife and daughter. Clever, Laura thought, Lee is better at this than anyone will ever know. She knew exactly what was going on, and Lee had probably been warned ahead of time.

The Three holding the baby stepped forward. "We came to enroll our son in pre-kindergarten." She spoke loudly, and Laura had a flash of the arrogance the D'anna model, despite the fact that the woman had taken care to dress differently. Only a flash, because it was all to clear to her that both of the Cylons were trying very hard not to look frightened. The little boy did look frightened.

A very human looking little boy, Laura though suddenly, who wasn't guilty of any crime and who hadn't even been born when someone that looked like his mother had beaten her in a detention cell on New Caprica. We are at a crossroads, she thought suddenly, and this will end as well or as badly as I want it to. "So what seems to be the problem?" she said to the crowd on the steps.

She knew what the problem was She just wanted one of them to say it.

"We don't want Cylons here!" That was a shout, and it was from Galen Tyrol. A surprise, but only because he was awake and seemingly sober enough to stand. It had been something that had saddened Bill Adama, that Chief Tyrol had been one of the ones that hadn't adjusted well to New Atlantis. Problems with post traumatic stress, coupled with drinking… His wife had left him, and had essentially assumed his job in the military. He occasionally took on construction jobs but it was understood by most of the population that he wasn't stable.

And now, Laura thought, now I have to choose. She could feel the power swelling in the crowd and all it would take was a few carefully placed words to make it explode. It was her decision and finally, she made it. "This is a Federation colony, Mr. Tyrol, and a Federation school. We're not at war with Cylonia, or with Cylons, and biological Cylons are human beings with nanite infestations, a problem their children do not share. While the citizens of Cylonia are… guests here, their children can and will attend our school, just like the other Federation children who aren't necessarily born here." She looked over Tyrol, to the school staff, and let her voice harden. "Is that understood?"

There were grumbles, loud ones, but more nods. She stared down the group on the steps until they started to back away and then let out the breath she was holding. The swell of anger in the crowd faded and people began taking their children into the school. She walked over to the Cylon couple and knelt down to the little boy. "So, what's your name?"

He back up against his father and didn't answer until the man nodded. "My name is Jean-Luc and this is really scary."

That was a normal reaction considering how everyone was acting. He reminded her of one of the little ones that had been in one of her first classes. And the name…"Jean-Luc?" she asked the Two.

"We named him after the man that saved us," the Two said.

Of course, Laura thought, to them, Captain Jean-Luc Picard was their savior. She turned her attention back to the boy. "Well, Jean-Luc, I'm sorry that your first day here started so scary but why don't you take my hand and I will take you and your parents to meet your new classmates?"

Lee was right, she thought as she took the little boy's hand, it's easier when you keep remembering who won and who didn't, and who was going to be completely assimilated by the Federation. Cylons, as she had known, were essentially extinct.


	15. Chapter 15

She felt her stomach roll and she willed it to stop. That worked on a controlled viper roll but not now. Dammit, she thought as she crawled out of bed, the early morning sky only just beginning to lighten, I don't have time for this.

Kara threw up in the toilet. Dammit, she thought again. She counted to ten, and then vomited again. Not now, she thought darkly as she counted again. She vomited again on the second count to ten.

"Clockwork," Sam said as he came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. His words were hesitant. "I let it go yesterday, because we had a lot of ambrosia the other night, but…. This reminds me of when you were pregnant. When you had morning sickness. Are you pregnant?"

"I don't know," she said, her voice harsh. That wasn't entirely true. The birth control had failed the last time and she had felt the same way before realizing what was happening. An odd sense of anticipation, almost a joyful feeling. And then the vomiting had started. Like clockwork, Sam had made the joke before. Every morning, for exactly one month, she had gotten up at the crack of dawn and vomited exactly three times, precisely ten seconds apart. It had felt awful, and awesome all at once, and she couldn't deny that she currently felt the same. "I'll need to see a doctor," she said as Sam helped her off her knees.

"Another baby…." Sam smiled. "I thought you were on birth control, were you trying to surprise me? Because you did. I thought you were against it. This is incredible, Kara… Another baby… The twins will have a little brother or sister."

"Sam…" The fact that he was so clearly delighted meant that he had wanted another child more than she realized. "This… is happening at the worst frakking time possible. I didn't plan this. We're about to go to war. If I am pregnant, I will lose my flight status."

His face fell and he pulled her into an embrace. "It's your decision," he whispered softly as he held her. "I'll support you in whatever you decide."

She pulled back. "But you want the baby. Dammit Sam, I can't just walk away from my responsibilities."

"You don't have to," Sam shot back. She could see his temper flaring. "You're in line to be the executive officer. There's plenty of pilots. The Admiral has been using you as his tactical officer for the last two years. He lets you fly because you love to fly, not because he needs every person he can cram into a Viper."

"What if he does need to cram everyone he can into a Viper? Have you frakking thought of that, Sam? That things are already so bad that we're looking at what an evacuation of the colony would take?" It was a worst case scenario but anyone who had read Gaeta's paper on Starfleet preparedness knew just how bad it could get. "I don't know what to do. I have to head up to the Galactica today." She touched her stomach. "I have a couple of days before I have to make a decision.."

Sam touched her stomach and then pulled away. "I'll support you, no matter what you decide." The broken edge to his voice helped decide.

"I'm keeping it," she said, knowing it was the right decision. "So you better get all that frakking stuff in the garage sanitized." It was going to play hell with the Admiral's plans, and if things went as badly as they could, the decision might be different. We'll have to call this one Ares, she thought as she hugged Sam again, a child of war.

0o0o0o0

It still felt odd to walk into the CIC wearing his Starfleet uniform. His hands itched, and he almost tripped as he fought the urge to just head to his old workstation. In a way it helped that the younger crew people all looked up when he walked in, surprised and awed to see him. That was certainly different from the old days, where he was lucky to get a surly nod from Tigh and maybe a secret smile from Dee before they both got down to the business of working. He looked over to her spot before he could stop himself and then sighed. He still didn't know where she was, and it was getting more difficult to put out of his mind. The passenger cruiser had been in a developed area, and based on the current protocols, he knew the ship would have offloaded the passengers as soon as there was a hint of trouble, but after that… The idea of his wife and children fending for themselves while the Federation was at war frightened him. It frightened him badly, badly enough that he had entertained the notion of simply taking his ship and heading out to look for them.

A ridiculous thought, considering he had no idea where they were, and if he did something that rash and stupid, Dee would be the first one to tell him how stupid and rash it was, and then yell at him for thinking she needed rescuing. She had been amused but also annoyed that he'd gotten Karl to take the same route home. Part of him regretted that, since it left Sharon Agathon in the same miserable position he was in, although at least she had her children. There was another part of him that was damn glad that Dee had Karl with her. Karl Agathon had his flaws, but he was one tough son of a bitch and loyal to a fault. But knowing Dee had someone to help her didn't alleviate the guilt he felt over talking her out of taking the trip out on Surprise's passage to New Caprica.

Enough of that, he told himself as he strode over to where the Admiral was standing. With Lee, who was wearing colonel rank. He would have preferred Lee to stay in the civilian government, to keep Roslin in check. Serena would have preferred it too, and he'd already gotten an earful from Serena on what a crazy religious bitch Laura Roslin was. He saw Lee's handiwork all over the incident at the school. Lee Adama was far better at the political games than anyone gave him credit for. A noble wolf ready to fight in appearance, like his father, but underneath Lee was quietly pulling the strings of the civilian government. Getting Laura Roslin of all people, to welcome Cylon children into the colony's school was a stroke of genius.

He nodded to Adama. "Admiral Adama, I want to thank you for inviting me to the test firing. This should be interesting." Exciting, and he could feel the Galactica almost shivering in delight at the idea. He could also still feel a certain low grade resentment from Galactica, resentment that he had left and returned with a new pet, and oddly a sense of irritation, that something wasn't right. He almost said something and then stopped himself. People found his abilities creepy at the best of times, and the Galactica had always been a difficult read. Bill Adama was her true master, although he could feel the touch of someone new as he put his hand on the main console, and the truth was that he was still recharging from the incident with Surprise. I'll wait, he decided, at least until I have the Admiral alone.

"You're early, Cmdr. Gaeta." Bill Adama looked amused. "Did you forget that Galactica has transporters?"

A joke, and a rather funny one considering the Admiral. "I was finalizing my choices for permanent command of the Kochanski, Bradbury, and Stirling and I wanted to discuss staffing with you." Staffing concerns was a better way to put it, but he knew from years of experience that the best way to broadcast the problem was to discuss it in the CIC.

"Yes, I have some restructuring to discuss as well," Adama said. He turned to Lee. "Colonel Adama, I want Commander Tigh, Major Thrace, Major Costanza, and Commander Six to report to my quarters in five minutes. You have the deck."

Interesting, Gaeta thought as he followed the Admiral out of the CIC. Commander was a promotion for Tigh, and a recent one. He knew the Cylon military had been consolidated into the New Atlantis forces, but Adama hadn't yet announced what changes he was making. Tigh's promotion suggested a course of action, and so did the fact that Lee was left in the CIC but Gaeta held his tongue. If he was right, it meant the requests he had would go a little easier.

He wasn't surprised that everyone was already there, holding padds and looking expectant. Six had already changed into a New Atlantean uniform. It was eerie. He could tell that he wasn't the only one who was uncomfortable. Get used to it, he told himself. Some of the staffing requests he had involved Cylons.

Adama gestured for them all to sit down. "Cmdr. Gaeta has some personnel requests to discuss with us, but I thought I'd start with clarifying the command structure here since our recent consolidation with the Cylonian Forces." He gestured to Six. "Cmdr. Six has graciously agreed to step down from command of the Cylon basestar in order to relieve any concerns the civilian population has about having a basestar here in the system. Commander Tigh will be assuming command of the base star. Cmdr. Six will take the position of squadron leader for the Cylon airwing that is being reassigned to the Galactica. Other positions will be determined once Cmdr. Gaeta lets us know who he intends to second to Starfleet." Adama looked at him expectantly.

Not for the first time, Gaeta was struck by Adama's ability to roll with the situation. In a different setting, in Starfleet, Bill Adama would have been held up as another Jim Kirk, another Jean-Luc Picard. A leader so worthy that all one had to do was say the name and people immediately conjured up story after story of their accomplishments. That he felt Starfleet and the Federation relied too much on the myth of the heroic ship captain coming to save them didn't change the fact that he was reassured by the idea of having the colonial equivalent on his side.

"The problem I have is that we have more ships than qualified Starfleet officers to run them," he said easily. "While I have about five hundred people between the station, Surprise, and the researchers at NAIT, the majority of those people are scientific researchers, not command officers. They've all done their obligatory ship cruises but they're science officers for the most part. The Bradbury, Kochanski and Stirling will need permanent crew of at least seventy five apiece and that's cutting every corner and not allowing for any back up personnel. I'm already got volunteers retraining for ship berths, but I will need some of your people to round out the crews. Surprise can run effectively with just twenty people but that's also essentially a skeleton staff. The big issue is the station. If I pull my people who are qualified to man the patrol ships, I'm leaving the station extremely shorthanded." He paused. "Most of the people that are qualified to handle the station's defenses are also the people who would be best assigned to the patrol ships. Even if I call up the Starfleet reservists who have settled on New Atlantis, most of them would need retraining. I'm still short about two hundred people."

Adama's eyes didn't betray anything. "You're being too conservative, Cmdr. I intend to follow you when you leave with your ship." Gaeta nodded. It hadn't been expressly stated before and the details needed to be worked out, but he had understood that the Galactica was being rearmed for battle not defense. "The base star and the three patrol ships will remain here for defense but Aurora Station has the system defenses and needs to manned with qualified people first. You'll want people trained on Federation technology for the ships. Cmdr. Six has seventy five qualified people from her crew, and I have two hundred." He paused. "They're young, for the most part, but I can spare them."

"Thank you. That does alleviate a lot of headaches." Gaeta meant it. The extra people meant that he wasn't running the station on fumes and luck. "These people would be accepting temporary assignment to Starfleet and would need to be willing to take an oath to that effect. I would like to pull Major Kelly as captain of the Kochanski, Captain Agathon as captain of the Stirling, and Lt Cmdr. Morales from my crew will take command of the Bradbury and of the local fleet when I take Surprise back to the main fleet. Lt. Cmdr Dorjie, my executive officer will take control of the station while I am away." Good officers both, but it wasn't the first time that he wished Grossen hadn't imploded so badly. The man was, if nothing else, a competent and efficient station commander, but he couldn't trust Grossen to follow orders. Dorjie in contrast, was relatively low ranked but already jumping to the tasks being thrown at her. "Dorjie was my tactical officer for Surprise. Frankly, leaving her, and several of Surprise's junior officers here leaves me short handed which leads me to a request you might find difficult. I'd like five of your more senior officers to serve on Surprise."

Adama nodded. "I suspected that you were stripping your crew."

"I'm not," and he was glad that it wasn't a lie, "but I do want Surprise to have more than a skeleton crew until we can reconnect with Starfleet command. The people I want will also need to accept temporary assignment to Starfleet and be brevet commissioned officers." He waited until Adama nodded. "From the basestar, I would like Capt. Matthew Conoy and Lt. Melissa Three. They're both familiar with Starfleet technology and have done well when working with Starfleet."

"Excellent choices," Six said suddenly. "I would recommend both. They're dedicated officers and they've both spent time on Earth so there won't be any issues with interacting with humans." She suddenly looked embarrassed. "They're both flexible and… had regrets about our interactions with the colonies before we found the Federation. They're good officers. Both would be pleased and honored."

Felix nodded. That was the sense he had gotten when he had broached the idea to the two officers. He wasn't enthralled at the idea of Cylons on his ship but he had to be fair and to set an example and both officers had excellent reports in the coursework they had done for Starfleet. If he chose just New Atlanteans, it would be a problem "I'm glad that it won't be a difficult transition for them." He was, it made it harder for everyone if people were unhappy but he had made sure to choose Cylons that seemed to interact well with humans. "I would also like Lt. Tyrol and Captain Edmondson. They're both highly skilled with FTL and warp technology and Cpt. Edmondson has the engineering skill to replace Lt. Cmdr. Dorjie in Engineering." He waited until Adama nodded to continue. The last request was, he suspected, the one he was least likely to get. "Finally I'd like Major Thrace to be Surprise's tactical officer. I know that's depriving you of a valuable asset but she is more than qualified and I need someone of her caliber."

Everyone looked at him in surprise, Adama and Thrace in particular, although he couldn't help but notice that both looked relieved. Adama was the first to speak. "That would solve a problem of mine," he said easily, "and considering the number of people you're reassigning to assist us, this isn't a hardship. Each person being seconded to Starfleet does have the right to refuse… they took their oath to the colony, the rules in Starfleet are different. For what it's worth, I doubt many of the chosen will refuse." Adama looked at Kara, who was smirking. She nodded slightly, and it didn't escape him that she was agreeing to the assignment. "As it happens, I'm in the pleasant position of being a bit top heavy with command staff, Cmdr. Gaeta. Colonel Adama will assume the executive position and Captain Hoshi will move to the role of tactical officer with Lt. Alghee as back up."

He saw the problem instantly. Louis Hoshi and Lindsay Alghee were both qualified in tactics but so was Kara. Lee outranking Kara would naturally step into the exec spot even though it ultimately wasn't a permanent role for him. He had expected to have to fight more to get Kara to his ship, and he could see from the relief and surprise in Brendan Costanza's eyes that the man had walked into the meeting expecting to be demoted from CAG.

"What am I missing here?" he asked. He saw suddenly that he and Hotdog weren't the only ones who were surprised. Even Six seemed surprised at how Kara was simply handed over.

Kara winked at him. "What? Maybe I want to get my hands all over your little flying weapons platform… sir. Seems like you need someone at tactical who isn't afraid to put it through its paces. But I do have a question for you. Is your medical staff prepared to handle my pre-natal care? I have exacting standards."

"Pre-natal care?" It flashed on him why Adama wasn't demoting Hotdog.

Kara winked again. "I," she said haughtily, "am a giver of life. Yes, that's right, I'm your tactical officer now, and I have the pregnancy hormones to keep things nicely angry."


	16. Chapter 16

It was like wearing ugly pajamas. Ugly yellow and black pajamas, and it irritated her how comfortable the uniform was. A uniform was supposed to be faintly uncomfortable, to remind one of the discipline of the service. She wasn't surprised, it went hand in hand with the softness of Starfleet. At least it wasn't as horrid as some of the older Starfleet uniforms. Pictures of one Felix Gaeta in Starfleet Academy togs got laughs from even the most zealous Felix Apollo worshippers.

It's too late to back out, she reminded herself. She had taken an oath, given her word, to serve as a brevet officer in Starfleet for the current crisis. She just wasn't entirely certain she'd made the right call. Kara set down her small bag on the bed in her new quarters. The ensign who had shown her to the crew quarters on Surprise had apologized about the size of the room. She had almost laughed. Tiny and cramped, yes, with just enough room for the bed and a desk, but huge compared to the rack on the Galactica that she had lived in for years. The ensign had also apologized about the shared bathroom as well. Clearly the crew had only a vague idea of what her previous ship quarters were like. Sharing a small but well appointed bathroom with one other officer, no doubt a female officer, wasn't really a hardship when you were used to group showers.

Of course, even the Galactica had gotten more luxurious. There were still group showers and group quarters but without civilians packed into every spare corner, there was a lot more room. There was still a mess hall, but there were replicators along with stored food. Sonic showers were popular. Even the rooks, the ones who joined the colonial fleet after they had settled on New Caprica, were old enough to remember life in the ships, and they thought living on the Galactica now was pretty cushy compared to their old bunks on the dilapidated fleet ships. But her small room with a shared bathroom was much nicer than anything on the Galactica except perhaps the Admiral and Executive officer's quarters.

Both of which would still eventually be hers. Lee was never going to stay in the military in peace time, and Tigh was only assuming command of the base star to ease the fears of the civilian government. And Gaeta had made it clear at the swearing in ceremony that their terms in Starfleet were for the duration of hostilities. Thinking of Gaeta reminded her that it was time to meet with her commanding officer. She wasn't really up on Starfleet etiquette but in the colonial fleet, a new senior officer was expected to report to the commander within an hour of taking quarters.

It was small, but Surprise definitely felt like a Starfleet vessel. In a matter of seconds, she was in the CIC, the "bridge" she reminded herself. Starfleet was full of traditions that only made sense if you researched their origins. Gaeta was a commander by rank but a captain by position so on Surprise he was called Cpt. Gaeta but on Aurora Station and in general he was called Cmdr. Gaeta. Captain was also an officer rank in Starfleet, about the equivalent of a major or colonel depending on whether they had a ship command or not and in general it was a great big mess. Her own rank was Lt. Cmdr, which meant she was fairly high ranked but her position in the chain of command was still unclear.

Gaeta stood as she entered. She struggled not to roll her eyes. She had gotten to take some courses on Earth and the odd way women were treated was irritating. She didn't roll her eyes because it was possible he was extending some sort of Starfleet courtesy. Starfleet had a lot of irritating courtesies as well. "Cmdr. Thrace, reporting as ordered, sir."

"Thank you, Cmdr. Thrace." Gaeta didn't smile, although his eyes managed to suggest his amusement. "I'm glad to have you aboard. I'd like to discuss your duties before I put you to work." He gestured to a small door just off the bridge.

She nodded. She had to admit, it was a feature of Federation ships she liked, the ready room for conferences between officers. It was a concept she intended to replicate on the Galactica when the time came. The CIC was where Bill Adama conducted all but the most confidential fleet conferences and it wasn't always a wise decision in her opinion. The ready room on Surprise was tiny but that was to be expected. She took a seat at the small table and after a moment so did Gaeta.

"Yellow is a horrible color for you," he said.

"I didn't get a choice," she said after a moment, her interest suddenly high.

"Would you like a choice?" Gaeta asked. His tone was almost teasing.

"What are you talking about?" She had an inkling but Gaeta was always a hard read.

He leaned back in his chair. "Right now my chain of command is a mess. I don't have an exec and the officers I normally would have promoted to replace Grossen are going to Aurora Station and the Bradbury. My next choice is Cmdr. Barclay and while Reg is a fine officer and a truly brilliant engineer, he's a bad fit. You would be a good fit as my executive. You're a brilliant tactical officer, and that's what I need you for, primarily, but I also have to consider what happens to my crew if I get killed. I want you to be my executive officer." He waited.

Tempting. She wasn't there because she wanted a career in Starfleet but executive officer was higher on the food chain than tactical officer. And Gaeta was, after all was said and done, one clever bastard. One sneaky clever bastard. "You must have junior officers who are capable."

"None that have combat experience. Most of my junior officers are fresh from scientific assignments." He sighed. "You know my opinion. I can look at our history and see exactly why we don't emphasis the military aspects of Starfleet… There's always been an emphasis on exploration and scientific achievements. That encourages the best and the brightest to apply, and when a war finally comes, we end up with a lot of people who don't really know what they're doing."

"I know that," Kara said after a moment. "But I have met your junior officers. They're pretty good. They also might resent someone from the local militia being promoted over them." Which would make her job harder.

"They won't resent it if you do your job." Gaeta's eyes glittered with amusement. "Of course, I will expect better than you just doing your job."

"It's remarks like that almost make me want to resign," Kara said. She had made peace with Gaeta over their shared past. She had regrets, she had regrets over how a lot of things that had happened, not just the moments in time where she was making Felix Gaeta's life a living hell. Gaeta, to give him credit where it was due, had never been a jerk about it in the aftermath, but sometimes she wondered. He was, as Tigh often put it, a sneaky son of a bitch. It was always wise when dealing with Gaeta to remember that underneath the pleasant smile and countenance was a man that made lying an art form for most of his adult life. "You didn't really need a tactical officer."

He smiled slightly. "I do. I'm not going to lie to you and say I don't know how to stage a raid or fight a battle. I'm good at it, maybe even great. But you're brilliant, Kara. The raid on the Cylon fuel depot… It was genius. It saved our lives." He leaned back in his chair, seemingly amused. "I thought Bill Adama was going to replace me with you after that, but he put you back on Vipers. I understand why, but there's a reason you're in line for command after him. I can see you and your ideas all over the Galactica's refit. That was all you, wasn't it?"

"The Admiral agreed with my ideas, yes." She was pleased at how well the test firing had gone. The Galactica was never going to be fast in comparison to a Starfleet vessel, but with the new weapons in place, the battlestar was a worthy asset.

"The ablative armor… you stole that from the Defiant's design." Gaeta said it in a way that told her he liked it. "Being in Galactica's firing solution is like sticking your hand in a wasp's nest. Add in the new Mark 8 Vipers… Starfleet has never pursued the idea of a carrier ship so they don't know how to defend against it. But that goes to my point. You're a brilliant tactician, better than I am, and I do need you to function as my tactical officer. I need you as my executive officer because I need someone with combat experience and I need someone who complements my skills, but also isn't afraid to stand up to me. You fit the bill. Oh, and if you take the job, you get the XO's quarters which are slightly bigger and have a private bathroom."

"You don't have to bribe me, Felix," she said after a moment. "I'm pregnant, remember? The Admiral was pissed with me." An exaggeration, Bill Adama had been both shocked and worried. Shocked because it certainly wasn't a secret that she hadn't wanted more children, although the more she thought about it, the more the idea grew on her. Adama had been worried because he really was top heavy with staff officers. She was still Viper qualified and Lee still maintained his flight status but a lot of the Viper pilots had retired or dropped down to Raptors. The Mark 8 Vipers were harder to fly, and it hadn't escaped her that the older ones who had stayed were the ones that she suspected of having Palamas genes. "You want me to be your version of Colonel Tigh to your crew. You get to be the reasonable one while I'm the hard ass."

"I would prefer it if you didn't openly drink alcohol while in command of the bridge, but yes." Gaeta grinned openly. "Too much alcohol is bad for the baby. And to a point, that is the dynamic I am looking for, but I am not exaggerating my need for your tactical brilliance. The Dominion, by all reports, is not going to frak around. Has it occurred to you that we may need to liberate planets?"

"Yes." It had occurred to her that New Atlantis was off the beaten track but would eventually get the Dominion's attention. Roslin was discreetly having all the remaining ships repaired and restocked. "Has it occurred to you that you will be giving the Old Man orders?" She knew the regulations as well as he did. The Galactica and her crew were local military. Bill Adama had to place himself under Gaeta's command in order to justify Gaeta allowing the Galactica to be rearmed with Federation weapons. Gaeta was trusting the man with his future, because any misstep would backlash onto him. She knew Bill Adama well enough to know he took that sort of trust seriously, but she also knew that there was going to be a clash eventually. She considered. If something happened to Gaeta, she would be the one giving orders to Bill Adama, and in many ways he'd accept that more easily than he would from Gaeta.

She could do it. The question in her mind was whether Gaeta could do it. "I have a question. I need to know something about you, Felix. Before I agree to being your executive officer."

He nodded. "I understand. What do you want to know?"

"You controlled the route, back on the Galactica, and I know now that you were threading a needle to get us here. One bad course and we would have ended up in Romulan space." No doubt imprisoned as spies simply because they were human. Romulans wouldn't have even considered their tale of woe until long after they were in some death camp. "What if Roslin hadn't fallen for your story?"

Gaeta looked at her, his expression intent. Finally he said, "You might not like the answer to that, Kara."

"I'm sure I won't, but I need to know how. What would have happened if you hadn't gotten Roslin on your side?" It was important, Kara thought, to know just how far her new commanding officer would go.

He leaned forward. "I went to Roslin," he said quietly, his eyes suddenly dark, "because I had hoped I could use her religious tendencies to get what I wanted. I never could have approached the Admiral. You know that. You know the kind of man he is. At best he would have assumed I had lost my mind. You weren't there when he found out the truth. He didn't believe it, and then it was just luck and Laura Roslin that stopped him from beating the hell out of me. He never would have believed me, and all of us would have died." Gaeta stopped and then took a deep breath. "If it had just been me, I would have accepted it, but it was everyone, and I couldn't accept the idea that everyone was going to die."

"What was the plan," she asked again.

"I would have poisoned his coffee. It would have looked like a heart attack. Cottle didn't have the technology to spot poison and frankly, the Old Man is an old man." Gaeta's voice was ice cold. "Tigh would have assumed his role, and Tigh wouldn't have noticed the route until we were in the main shipping lanes." Again he stopped. "You're worried that I'm going to let the Admiral call the shots. I'm not. I would have hated to have gone that far, but I would have. Once I made the decision to take the fleet to Federation space, I wasn't going to let anything stop me. I don't intend to let the Dominion destroy everything I love. If that means pissing off Bill Adama…. That's not exactly a big deal, considering what I would have done to the man. And I want you as my executive because if something happens to me, I want to know that my replacement can and will stand up for themselves." Some of his good humor returned to his voice. "I've never known you to have a problem with that, Kara. Have I answered your question?"

She thought about it. "Yes. I'll take the job. The red uniforms better have a maternity version. Have I mentioned how awful the uniforms are?"

Gaeta relaxed. "Well, the maternity uniforms are even worse…"


	17. Chapter 17

Lee Adama walked into the CIC and wondered just how he'd ended up in the exact place that he never wanted to be. Executive officer on a battlestar had never been a dream of his. He loved flying, he could never deny that, but he had never wanted to spend the bulk of his life in uniform. Worse, he was stuck in the military, under direct command of his father, in a position his rank qualified him for but that he'd never wanted. Particularly with his father as the commander of the ship. It made sense, when the rank and experience of all of the command officers was considered, but when they found whatever was left of Starfleet Command, it was going to raise eyebrows. It didn't bother his father, but over the years Lee had come to understand that Bill Adama could be politically tone deaf about the obvious. It was the sort of thing that made Starfleet commanders assume that the colonials were backwards.

Of course, that assumed they found any Starfleet ships. "Anything?" he asked the young woman at the new long range scanner controls.

"No joy, sir," the young officer said. "A couple of those comm disrupter drones but nothing else."

"Have a Viper group sent out to deal with that," he ordered. Easy pickings and a good thing to do, a standing order from the Admiral was that any Dominion drones found were to be destroyed. The more drones destroyed, the more likely it was that they would find someone. He looked up to see if Adama had anything to say to that, but the older man just nodded slightly.

He stepped over to the main console, what used to be the Dradis, and what now held the results of multiple scanners and systems. It was a vast, multi networked system, and he marveled inwardly at how his father not only allowed the linked computers, but understood the data streaming on every screen. It impressed him, partly because he knew from personal experience that it wasn't easy to adapt to a completely different scientific world view. Bill Adama had been able to visit Earth but had never had the time to formally take courses on Starfleet technology. His father's knowledge on the new systems was all self taught and he knew exactly what the many scans were telling him about the ship. It also impressed him because he knew exactly how much networked computers disturbed his father.

"What are your orders, sir?" he asked. Starfleet had assembly points set up just in case of the sort of attack that disrupted the normal flow of communication. They were checking out the first assembly point, the closest one to New Atlantis. Gaeta and his ship were checking the second. It was concerning that there was nothing there. Protocol said that if ships had assembled and left, coded instructions would be left to instruct stragglers on where to go. There wasn't even wreckage, which suggested that there hadn't even been time to assemble.

"Once the disrupter drones are destroyed, we'll broadcast that we're here to the outlying systems." Adama said it loudly, so that the whole CIC could hear. "Then we'll wait until Surprise arrives. I have a bad feeling that they are not going to have good news for us."

Lee nodded. His instincts told him that Adama was right. They stood side by side, watching the long range scanners as the Viper patrols moved out to destroy the disrupter drones. "It's almost like we're right there with them," he said as he watched the scans. Kara could get away with yanking the old man until she was allowed to be on flight status and bridge duty, but he certainly couldn't. Kara was a true pilot, the pilot that reminded the Admiral of his own pilot status, and Adama indulged her in a way that Lee knew not to expect. Still, he missed flying.

"It's not," Adama muttered darkly, staring at the dots. "Its not like flying a Viper at all, but it isn't bad either." He glanced at Lee. "I was going to put you in the CAG spot. I decided against it because I have plenty of good pilots and Hotdog is a good flight leader. You're the XO because you're an excellent pilot, and you're also an excellent administrator. I need the second more than the first."

Lee didn't change his expression. "You should have kept Kara here." Not because the executive job was beyond him, but because she was the better tactician, and the crew was used to her. The change from Tigh to Kara would have been minimal as far as the crew was concerned, she had already assumed the role in everything but name.

"No," Adama said, his eyes never leaving the screen. "I would have kept her if you had stayed on New Atlantis. It was foolish of Laura to let you go, you temper her in a way that makes everyone love her and never see that you're the one behind it, but her loss is my gain." He looked away from the scanners, into Lee's eyes, his expression suddenly intent. "You're ready now. Kara still needs seasoning. We're not going to be dealing with just Gaeta for long. I need someone here who can deal with Starfleet. Tigh can't, and Kara needs to learn to control her temper. You know how to handle yourself in war, and in political situations. I will need that more than I need Kara chafing at the sight of other people flying." More quietly he added, "if you think you were my second choice, you're wrong. Gaeta asking for Kara solved a problem for me. She's in line for command, that's not a secret, but there's a difference between being in line and being ready. Working under Gaeta will temper her. You've already had that tempering with Laura." His expression became more amused. "Laura claims that politics is a form of war."

"It is." A far more subtle form of war than his father was comfortable with, or Kara for that matter. Still, as he watched the Vipers move on the long range scanner, he felt better about his place in the command line. The Vipers seemed to swoop on the screen and suddenly the pilots chatter burst over the CIC's speakers. "The drones are destroyed."

"Send out a message to the sector that we're here." Adama said. "And everyone stay sharp."

Lee nodded. The Dominion was likely monitoring communication. Once they realized that their drones were being systematically destroyed, they would come running for a fight. It was quiet for another long moment and then the communications officer looked up. "Sir, the Surprise is sending a coded subspace message." The young woman gulped nervously as she handed the paper communication over. Adama read it and then handed it to him. He knew what was coming as he read the communication but it still sent a shiver down his spine.

"Action stations!" Adama called. Lee hit the ship loudspeaker and the alarms as the man spoke. "Action stations, this is not a drill. Set condition one throughout the ship. Spin up FTL drives One and Two. Recall all fighters. I've received communication that Surprise has found multiple survivors from a recent battle and requires our assistance. Be prepared to jump."

"Get the patrol on deck as fast as possible," Lee called out to the deck officers. "Hoshi, get the jump coordinates in. I want this jump done as soon as we've got our people on board. Move it, people!" In seconds the atmosphere in the CIC was bristling. Under his breath he said to Adama, "How bad do you think it is?"

"Let's assume it's bad," Adama said after a moment. "Surprise isn't big enough to rescue many survivors."

"It's a trap." Kara said, her eyes glittering. "They know how Starfleet thinks." She pointed to the derelict emergency shuttle pods. "What does Starfleet do when a ship goes down? You run to rescue the survivors. They know that. That's what they expect." The angry looks told her that the command staff of the Surprise didn't like hearing how predictable their operations were. Even Gaeta looked annoyed, although she could tell he was going to agree with her.

The staging area had clearly been compromised. The remains of five Starfleet vessels littered the system. Once they had taken out the comm disrupter drones, they had discovered a near fleet of escape pods and disabled shuttles. Too many for Surprise to handle. Her concern was the pods and shuttles that weren't clumped together. Starfleet ships were designed with numerous escape pods so that as many people as possible could survive. The problem was that the rattled ensign that had organized the escape shuttles and pods hadn't paid attention to the pods and shuttles that had been dark from the outset. The Jem'Hader were sneaky bastards who would think nothing of booby trapping escape pods. The only question in her mind was how the trap was set up.

"We're getting life signs from some of the pods," Mackenzie, the new tactical officer insisted. "We can't leave them to die just because of paranoia."

"And we shouldn't be fools, rushing in, when we know the enemy can and will use our standard operating procedures against us." Kara said. "Starfleet procedure is to drop everything and save as many lives as possible. That doesn't mean we have to be stupid about it." Mackenzie wasn't thinking, because the young officer had never been in a war before, and Starfleet always emphasized humanitarian aide first. "We have to assume the derelict pods are traps."

"But there could be people alive in those pods," Mackenzie shot back. "We're getting life sign readings."

Much as she expected, Gaeta waved his hand at Mackenzie's complaint. "We're also not the ones who will taking the risk in this situation, Lieutenant. It's the Galactica that will need to accept the survivors. We don't have room. The shuttles and pods in Ensign Kopell's fleet that have been in communication are probably safe, but I am sure the colonial fleet will take precautions. Ten of the remaining pods appear completely dead, no life signs, and no systems running. They'll marked for later retrieval. That leaves five outliers, one shuttle and four pods that appear to have life signs but no communication. We could tractor one on board, or ask the Galactica to do it since it has larger facilities but Cmdr. Thrace is correct. It is extremely likely that the Jem'Hader have left surprises behind. So what do we do?"

"Play the same trick," Kara said after a moment of thought. She gestured to the many consoles. "I'm sure with all this equipment, we could find a way to trick their sensors. Traps only work if they're sprung." She looked at the dark pods and disabled shuttle and thought about it. "If I were setting this trap, the pods would be rigged with explosives." She caught Gaeta's eye. "You would beam an emergency pod onto a larger ship pretty quickly. Open it up, and boom. It's done its job."

"How do we solve that problem?" Gaeta asked after a moment. "And lets assume I've already considered the obvious 'just leave them alone' plan, which isn't acceptable since there could be survivors." Kara nodded, his squeamishness didn't surprise her, she just had a better understanding of where it came from.

"Fight fire with fire," she said as the Galactica popped onto the view screen, obviously having jumped in to help. She gestured to Barclay. "The engineering staff is clever. Why not transport a remote scanner into the shuttle craft and dark pods that will mimic life signs and the conditions inside a ship? If there's really someone inside, then we'll know, and if there's not… the remote might set off the trap."

Gaeta looked at Barclay, who nodded after a moment. "It could work," the man said after a moment, "and its certainly safer than tractoring the pods in and opening them. I have to agree with Cmdr. Thrace on that, it seems probable that these pods are traps. It wouldn't be hard to transport a remote that mimics a ship's environment."

"Get it done, and quickly." Gaeta turned to her. "Let the Galactica know what we're planning. If you're right, Cmdr. Thrace, we're about to spring the trap."

Kara let herself smile, just a little, as she put her hands on the tactical station. Surprise was Gaeta's, she could tell that from the moment she stepped on board, but there was a certain playfulness she sensed when she touched the ship. Gaeta wasn't the sort to fly just for the sake of flying, and therefore he didn't put his ship through the paces that it longed to run. Something was going to happen with the pods, she was certain of it, and when it did, she was going to enjoy letting Surprise show exactly what it could do.


	18. Chapter 18

" I need a sit rep," Adama said into the comm. The wireless crackled. It almost made him smile. The Galactica had the same subspace communication that Starfleet used, but he had kept the wireless system in place for internal communication.

"A few serious injuries," Major Kelly said. "Most of them are just happy to get out of those pods. I can't say I blame them."

Bill didn't doubt that at all. The refit of the Galactica had added some escape pods, mostly in areas that were prone to being cut off. It was a good idea, in a worse case scenario, it meant fewer people would be immediately doomed in a catastrophe, but he wouldn't want to spend even an hour in one of the pods, let alone weeks. "Get them all to sick bay and prepare to launch vipers." He looked up and nodded to Lee, to give the go ahead. "I want Blue Spar Squadron and River Stone squadron launched." The Cylon squadron was good, he had to admit that, and his people needed to learn to fly with them. And if their squadron name was some sort of religious allusion that was possibly a little offensive to colonials, so be it. Most of the crew didn't get it, and he could appreciate that the Cylons felt isolated.

"Should I let Cmdr. Gaeta know?" Lee asked after a moment.

"He's got eyes. And scanners." And Gaeta was about to prod the dark pods and unresponsive shuttle.

"It's a trap," Lee agreed. "You think he's wasting time. With checking to make sure there aren't any people still alive."

It bothered him. I must be getting old, Bill thought. It wasn't that he hadn't been thinking something similar, but hearing Lee say it… "It's a trap," he conceded, his voice soft. "And Gaeta knows it, but… I'm fine with this." At Lee's look of pure surprise, he sighed. "Yes, we're at war, and yes, if we were still running from the Cylons, we'd already have jumped." It had happened, hoping to find one or two people alive being outweighed by the need to keep forty eight thousand safe. "We have time enough for small mercies. It's also important to be certain that the Dominion is using this sort of tactic." Starfleet had an unpleasant tendency to need a stack of bodies as proof something was dangerous.

After a moment Lee nodded. "I forget… This is the first time I've been to war where we had a home base to go back to. Do you think there are any survivors in those pods?"

"No." Bill was certain of that. He could tell that was Lee's opinion as well, and he suspected that if he had Gaeta and Kara in front of him, they'd both admit that. Gaeta was appeasing his crew, taking the time because there was time to take. It was only going to get harder but there was no reason to not do the right thing if there was time.

"One of three things is about to happen," he said after a long moment. "The first is nothing. The pods are just empty pods. I doubt that. The second is that the pods will explode. That's what we want to hope for. A trick, a nasty trick, but just a trick that we caught."

"And the third thing?" Lee asked. His eyes hardened. "I think I know. Nothing will happen *at first*. They're clever with communications. As soon as Surprise transports their little device to mimic the pod being in a ship, its going to send a signal to the Jem'hader."

"And we'll see how well the Mark 8's do against a real enemy." With Galactica's new firing solution providing the back up. The Mark 8 vipers weren't much against Federation technology, even with new enhancements. "Get the Raptors launched as well."

Lee gave the order. "A good idea, sir. The Raptors have more shielding, and the photon torpedoes can do more damage than the Vipers weapon systems." Bill knew that tone. Lee was a flier, and had made the effort to stay qualified to fly, but that was Lee's thoughtful side speaking. He'd had the thought as well, that the newer Raptors would would end up being the fighting workhorses of the fleet. They had enough size to carry Federation weapons and shielding and the jump drive made them maneuverable enough to keep up with a lower end warp drive. Vipers in contrast just weren't up to the challenge. Good for in system fighting and a last resort defense, but without warp or jump drives, or the ability to carry heavier weapons, they weren't even as useful as the Cylon heavy fighters. It was another thing that made him feel old.

He shook it off as he looked at the view screen. That was an innovation he liked, being able to actually see what was going on. The Surprise was maneuvering to the remaining pods, while the colonial ships hung off in formation just outside the firing zone. They were ready.

"Surprise is commencing with the test." Lee said. "They're teleporting the mimic device now."

Bill watched carefully. Much as he suspected, the pod didn't blow up. However, the communication boards lit up. If we see it then so does Surprise, Bill thought. "Hoshi, what's happening?"

"Some sort of coded burst communication," Hoshi said, his features showing his puzzlement. Not a good sign, Major Louis Hoshi was one of the crew that had been recalled, and the man had been one of the designers of the new colony's communication system. Another one that had taken to Starfleet technology like a duck to water, unusual in that Hoshi was a bit older than most of the original officers. If he was confused, it meant the Dominion was up to something. He gestured to the monitors. "Sir… I *think* its sending a message outside the system."

"Then we're about to be attacked," Lee said. "Everyone stay sharp." He said it with a firmness that almost made Bill smile. His protesting aside, Lee was an excellent leader. His instincts were right too. Suddenly the Dradis chimed, along with the newer long range sensors. "Three Jem'hadar heavy fighters and six scout craft are heading towards us."

"I want the squadrons to focus on the scout craft. Ready the firing solution. Focus the photon torpedos on the lead heavy fighter." Considering what they had heard about the Jem'Hader, he doubted that destroying one would make the rest go away.

"Remember the demonstration," Gaeta said. "We'll take the trailing heavy cruiser." Kara found herself nodding in agreement. The Galactica was going to look like a one giant floating target to the Jem'Hader. If they had any sort of intelligence on the New Atlanteans, it would be about the old weapons system. The refit, on paper, still made the Galactica look like an unlikely fighter. It had actually been frightening to find out just how stressed the metal in the old ship had been. Now though, she had a feeling the Jem'hader were going to get an unpleasant surprise.

"That's interesting," Mackenzie said suddenly. He gestured to the tactical screen. "The way the little ships, the Raptors and Vipers, are almost swarming like bees… They've cut the scout ships off." Kara got the sense he was impressed. "I didn't think there'd be much use for the colonial fleet's little ships but… they're herding the scout craft away from the main fight."

"We had to reconsider tactics, knowing what weapon systems could do here in the Alpha quadrant." Secretly she was quite pleased that the tactic was working. On the one hand, even with newer shielding installed, a Federation phaser could make short work of a Viper or a Rapter. On the other hand, Federation battle tactics amounted to big ships taking big shots at each other. Keeping track of dozens of small ships that could, at least in the case of the Raptors and Cylon heavy fighters, fire photon torpedoes was a lot more difficult. She smiled as the Galactica unleashed its new firing solution on the Jem'hader heavy fighters.

If she hadn't seen it during the test firing, she would have thought that the old girl was mortally wounded. It looked as though the ship was enveloped with dozens of exploding flowers. Those flowers, she knew, were photon torpedoes, and the Galactica could fire them off a hundred at a time. She smiled as the three heavy cruisers fully stopped and struggled to turn away from the barrage. They weren't successful, and in a matter of seconds all three were destroyed.

"Let's get at least one of these scouts," Gaeta said after a moment. He was smiling too, and Kara got the impression he was both relieved that the new weapons worked, and pleased that the Galactica had finally impressed his crew to the point of silence. "Make sure to monitor communications closely. It's easier for us to maneuver in to rescue a pilot than it is for the Galactica."

"No casualties on our side so far, sir," Kara said after a moment. They watched as Surprise's phasers took out one of the trailing scout ships.

"They didn't know they were walking into a beehive of photon torpedoes," Gaeta said after a moment. As one scout ship went down under a daring assault by one of the Cylon fighters, he said quietly, "They got off some coded communication bursts. They won't be surprised this easily again."

Kara smiled again. "It's not fun if they don't know what's going to hit them… sir." She looked at the scanner, suddenly not liking what she saw. One of the scout ships had broke away from the fighters and was attempting to make an escape. Coded bursts of communication were one thing, but a ship full of witnesses was another thing. She jumped over to the tactical seat and in seconds had Surprise bearing down on the scout ship. The scanners told her it was badly damaged but it was trying to get its warp core on line. "Phaser fire, center on the ship's core."

"Sir?" Mackenzie asked. Instinctively, she knew the idiot wasn't addressing her, but Gaeta. Starfleeters, especially Earth raised Starfleeters, called female officer's "ma'am".

"Do it." Gaeta said, his tone indicating his irritation. Kara didn't need to look behind her to know Gaeta was frowning with one of his patented angry looks. She could feel his irritation through the ship itself, Surprise was as annoyed as he was, but as soon the photon torpedos blasted into the sole remaining Jem'hader ship, she felt its relief as well.

"Excellent shooting, Ms. Thrace." She almost said something then, Gaeta knew as well as she did that it had been an easy shot and an easy maneuver all things considered. It was nothing compared to some of the fights with the Cylons. She suspected he was making a point to the crew.

"It was nice of the Admiral to leave one for us," she said finally.

"It was," Gaeta said. "And its not likely that we'll see such an easy fight again. Mr. Mackenzie, a word?" He gestured to the door that led to the tiny ready room. No doubt to explain to the bridge officer in more detail how hesitating at an order could get them all killed. It was, she thought suddenly, much more subtle than how Adama or Tigh would have handled it, but she had to admit, it was clear to everyone exactly who Gaeta was pissed with.

Next time, she thought as she rubbed her hands on the tactical console, next time we'll get more of a fight.


	19. Chapter 19

It still gave him chills, every time he landed on the deck. Having some of the new crew interspaced with the Cylon deck hands helped, but it was still eerie to step out of a colonial Raptor onto a base star. A base star that he commanded. He sometimes wondered if the gods just enjoyed mocking him.

"Commander on deck!" called one of the Fives. The man snapped off a salute and Tigh returned it. Chief Edward Fivesix, he thought, and congratulated himself on being able to put a name to an identical face. The naming conventions on Cylonia made it even worse. Chief Fivesix was married to a Six, a civilian, and combining numbers for last names was popular and irritating to keep track of since there was never any discernable rhyme or reason as to whose name went first. And then there were the ones who didn't take human first names and just went by their number, and the Twos liked to use Conoy or Leoben as a first or last name, while the Ones all preferred variations of John or Cavil.

Three, his executive officer, was waiting for him on the edge of the main deck. It meant something was wrong, but not serious enough to have warranted a call planet side. It had been a nuisance trip, meeting with the Quorum, mostly to ease everyone's mind that the Cylons were under control. He had almost snorted in disgust during the meeting when Zarek asked him about security measures. The irony, he supposed, was that his Cylon crew was never the problem. There had been a few of the reservists who he'd needed to send back to the colony, a few more that would probably need that boot in the ass as well.

"Commander Tigh, there was an incident while you were away." Three said easily.

Commander, he thought as he signaled for her to fall in beside him as he went to the corridor leading off the base star landing deck. It was something he had never wanted. He was never meant for command, he'd understood that from early on. His fear, his real fear that he had no one to share it with, was that things would go so badly wrong that Roslin would put her emergency plan to evacuate the colony into effect. That would put him in charge. It was his worst nightmare. "What happened?"

"Chief Tyrol… he had a sort of incident in one of the control rooms." Three said it as though it explained everything.

"Did the incident involve alcohol?" He was certain it had. He had been able to step back from the edge. Bill had helped, and so had the synthenol. He was still an alcoholic, but it was under control, and had been under control for years. Galen Tyrol had gone in a different direction. A shame really. The man had seemed fine at first, but after the first year, he had fallen apart. That in itself wasn't unusual. A lot of people had fallen apart during that year. The various psychologists said it was normal, that it was a reaction to the stress, and most people bounced back. Tyrol hadn't. He got into fights, his drinking increased and since the man knew how to make alcohol, he didn't have to worry about restrictions from a replicator. Cally had tried to help him, but she had their son to think of as well. The couple had divorced in the third year after the colony was established. The new war had brought Tyrol back into military service and there had been problems already. Tyrol resented not getting his old job back on the Galactica and made no bones about still hating Cylons. Tigh had brought him on partly because the man was an expert mechanic when sober, and partly because he hoped having a crisis to work with would help the chief sober up.

Apparently it had failed.

Much to his surprise, Three shook her head at his words. "No, according to the medical scans, he was sober when it happened. He was working in one of the control rooms and tripped and he fell into one of the data streams."

That stopped Tigh in his tracks. The data streams were a source of contention and anger between the human and Cylon crew. The Cylons used them to communicate and manipulate the ship and in many ways it made things faster. And quieter. It had something to do with their nanite technology, he didn't really understand it. However the ship could be flown without using the data streams, which made sense, because the mechanical Cylons didn't have nanites and ultimately had planned to eliminate their biological slaves. The human crew, himself included, suspected that the data streams were often used as a source of gossip. The Cylon crew countered that the data streams made things work more efficiently, and he had conceded the point. But… "No one said those damn pools of water were dangerous. What the hell happened?"

Three looked at him oddly. "The data stream isn't dangerous to humans. Haven't you ever tried it, sir? We tested it. There's nothing dangerous to humans. If you put your hand into the stream, you just get wet."

"Then what happened to Chief Tyrol?" he asked, letting his irritation show in his tone. She didn't react. It was another thing that he didn't like about his Cylon crew.

"He seemed to have some sort of seizure and collapsed. When he awoke, he described some sort of hallucination and became violent. He tried to harm himself and the doctor medicated him. He was asking for you."

Something about how she held herself made him curious. "What is so special about one of the crew having a mental breakdown that you needed to meet me on arrival to tell me about it?"

Three eyed him carefully. "When he took his hand out of the stream, he started screaming that he was a Cylon. Then he grabbed a sharp tool and tried to cut his own throat. The doctor has him down in sickbay, restrained."

It was worse than he thought. "I still don't see the urgency. It's unfortunate and the gods know we can't afford to lose someone with his skill, but I do consider you capable of arranging medical transport for Chief Tyrol planetside." In fact, he had already grudgingly admitted to Bill Adama that Colonel Three was an excellent executive officer.

She nodded and then seemed to carefully consider her next words. "Commander Tigh, do you know why my model was boxed?" She stepped in front of him, blocking the hallway.

"To be blunt, no. Cylon politics aren't something I kept up on." Although he did know the boxing had happened after the Temple of Jupiter had been found.

"I saw the faces of the final five. The ones forbidden. One of the conditions of my awakening was that the memory was removed but…. Chief Tyrol's hallucination is very similar to what happens when I enter the data stream." She said it carefully.

Tigh felt his blood turn to ice. "Are you… are you suggesting that Galen Tyrol is a Cylon?" It wasn't the horror show of an accusation that it used to be, but it was still an enormous problem, especially with the Cylons stuck on New Atlantis.

Three nodded. "The five may still exist. I think we should have the medical staff test Chief Tyrol for nanites. Because it is a sensitive topic, I wanted to make sure you were here when the doctor runs the test." She paused. "For what it's worth, it means that Chief Tyrol didn't have a hallucination, he's just unfamiliar with data stream communication. And of course, under the law, he's still a human being. Just one that has a nanite colony."

"If you're correct." Tigh hoped like hell that she wasn't. It had always been a mystery, that the Cylons insisted there were twelve models but only seven of them were known, and it had become a sort of conspiracy theory on New Atlantis, who the other five were. "It's a gods damned problem…"

"Also… before he was sedated, he was asking for you. Shouting really, that he needed to share something with you," Three said. It was obvious that she was curious.

"Am I a Cylon now?" he asked dryly as they resumed walking down the corridor. To the infirmary, because it had to be dealt with.

"Perhaps, sir, you should consider the possibility." Three said it matter of factly. "You are in the small minority of people who find transporting uncomfortable. Despite years of alcohol abuse, you're in excellent health. Have you ever been tested for Palamas indicators? Have you ever even considered taking steps to have your eye replaced? I understand with Federation technology, its relatively simple."

"I haven't bothered." His skin was crawling though. Transporting wasn't a pleasant experience for him at all and while it hadn't been told to the public, people who found transporting to be refreshing and physically pleasant consistently were found to have the Palamas genetic markers. Cylons found transporting unpleasant but enough humans didn't care for it that it wasn't significant. He'd considered seeing a doctor about his missing eye but early on, the medical staff had been so backed up with genuine emergencies and people suffering from worse problems, he'd put it off and it had just never seemed like the right time. Things kept coming up, there had always been a reason to not go to the medical clinic. Cottle had even stopped asking him about it. "You've seen the five. Am I a Cylon?"

Three shrugged. "I don't remember. It's a dark spot in my memory. Have you ever joined the data stream? Put your hand in?"

"No," he admitted. It was another thing that always seemed to be next on the list. He had intended, when the complaints started, to test it, and hadn't because there were always more important things. And because something always seemed to stop him whenever he lingered by the water falling in the command center. "Why don't we talk to Chief Tyrol first before we continue this discussion?"

He sure as hell didn't like what Three was implying.

The medical center was something of a new feature to the base star. It had been one of several gyms and converted. The resurrection ship was there, huddled close to the base star but he understood that none of the Cylons really understood the resurrection process and there was a concern that they would eventually run out of spare bodies. They had a doctor, a Cylon, one of the Number Four models, who was trained on Earth. The man had taken an Earth name, Dr. Benton, and Saul could admit, it made him less nervous when the Cylon in question seemed to be one of the converts to Federation life. The Cylons seemed to have a higher number of people who embraced the Federation like a long lost friend.

Benton stopped them before they got to the bed that Galen Tyrol was tied to. "Chief Tyrol is not up for an interrogation," the man said. "He's had some sort of psychological incident and needs to be kept calm." He eyed Tigh balefully, and Tigh found himself reminded of Jack Cottle, of all people. "Frankly, sir," Benton directed his words to Tigh, "the best thing we can do right now is get this man planet side so he can get the help he needs. I'm not ashamed to admit that my training in psychiatry is minimal at best."

"Did you check Chief Tyrol for nanites?" Tigh asked. He had a suspicion what the answer would be.

The Cylon looked aghast. "Surely you're not thinking he's a Cylon?"

"I think," Tigh said carefully, "that we should perhaps at least rule out the possibility." He hated saying it, but it was necessary. As the doctor blanched and nodded at the order, Tigh brushed past him and took a seat at Tyrol's bedside. Tyrol was strapped down and while his eyes were open, Tigh doubted he was going to get much from the man. "Galen…. I need to know what happened to you today. Tell me about it. That's an order."

Tyrol blinked rapidly and then tried to grab his hand. Sensing he'd get more if he let the man touch him, Tigh gripped Tyrol's hand. The younger man almost smiled at the touch.  
"Sir… thank you… thank you for coming…. I have to tell you something."

"Go ahead, Chief," Tigh said. He suddenly dreaded what the man was about to say.

"I saw… I saw everything…. " Tyrol closed his eyes and then opened them wide, as though he had been suddenly awakened. "Sir… Saul… you have to look in the places that don't exist… the truth is there… its all there… I saw you… I saw Ellen… I saw everything in the stream… It's so beautiful… sir, you have to look… look in the places that aren't there….."

His eyes fluttered and Tigh realized that whatever drugs they had given the man had silenced him. "Gods… the places that aren't there… what the frakking hell does that mean?"


	20. Chapter 20

Gaeta looked at the readings and hoped that for once, he'd gotten lucky. "Do you have the ship identified, Mr. Mackenzie?"

"Yes sir, " Mackenzie said. "It's the USS Valiant. At last communication, it was assigned to Captain Ramirez and was tasked with circumnavigating the Federation… A training cruise, most of the crew roles were filled by cadets."

Kara rolled her eyes from her position at the tactical conn. "A cadet cruise?"

Gaeta eyed her. "The Federation did not anticipate the war." Because they had their heads up their asses, and the Valiant's assignment was a direct sign. Ramirez was a good officer and the Valiant was another _Defiant _class warship, part of the initial production run of ships that were to serve as prototypes for the new class like Surprise. What better use for a light patrol warship than to have it seconded off to the Academy and uses as a training vessel. It made him sick, that was the truth. The only savings grace to the whole mess was that he knew Ramirez to be an excellent officer. Which of course explained why the man was exiled to an experimental ship with a bunch of cadets for crew. It was in many ways enraging. Kara wasn't helping the mood by harping yet again on the bad decisions that had been made. "Hail them."

Ramirez would get along with Admiral Adama. The Admiral might find himself chafing more since Ramirez wasn't going to assume much about his skill until he'd seen the ship in battle, but the older Starfleet officer was fair and an out of the box thinker. They were going to run across Starfleet officers that outranked him eventually and Ramirez was an almost optimal pick. It was a relief.

Until the Valiant responded to the hail. "This is acting Captain Tim Watters of the U.S.S Valiant. Are you the Defiant?" The view screen showed a very young looking human man.

Gaeta glanced over to Mackenzie. The officer gestured to his padd. "Watters is a senior cadet, in Red Squad."

A bad sign. Every officer had to be dead or incapacitated for that to happen. He hadn't been overly fond of the idea of Red Squad, it just seemed like another way to make cadets compete for rank, but since being in Red Squad meant a cadet was fast tracked, at least they were finding good cadets. "I'm Commander Gaeta, captain of the Surprise. It looks like your cadet cruise was eventful. We noticed your ship seems to damaged." The Valiant's warp drive was throwing off some unusual readings, and there was signs of scoring from weapons fire.

"We were attacked by a Cardassian ship," Watters said. Felix blinked but didn't express his surprise. It wasn't unexpected, the Cardassians making a move against the Federation, but it was disheartening just the same. "My engineering staff is working on it…. The officers assigned to act as our assessors were killed in the initial attack. Captain Ramirez gave me a battlefield commission before his death and command of the Valiant." Watters said it nonchalantly but his chest swelling with pride was obvious on the view screen. "Frankly, sir, I'd appreciate it if you could spare someone to come over and have a look at it. We don't have the industrial replicators we need to generate the parts we need to fix things but I want to make sure the crew is safe, at least."

"Of course." Gaeta gave a nod to Barclay who quickly moved. "I'll have my chief engineer beam over and assess the damage." The next part was more difficult, but it had to be said. "You've done a commendable job, Cadet Watters. You're also very lucky. If the damage is that severe, we have access to some repair facilities. You're relieved, Mr. Watters." Gaeta turned to Mackenzie. "Signal the Galactica. We'll probably need to access their facilities in order to affect repairs." The Valiant was too large to fit in the landing bay, but it could safely dock on the Galactica. The sensor readings indicated the warp drive would need extensive repairs. The admiral wasn't going to like having the Galactica used as a repair platform, but if Valiant's warp drive was repairable, that put another fighting ship into action.

"But… " Watters looked stricken for a moment and then covered it. "With respect, sir, I am following the orders Starfleet sent Capt. Ramirez."

"Capt. Ramirez is dead," Felix said gently. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr. Watters, but those orders from Starfleet were meant for Captain Ramirez, not a training ship full of cadets." It occurred to him that if Valiant was in better shape, the angry looking cadet just might do something he'd regret later. He could see it in the young man's eyes, the look of someone overwhelmed by responsibility, but unwilling to let the load on his shoulders go. For an instant, Tim Watters in his Starfleet cadet uniform and captain's rank looked like a colonial, with his tired eyes and worn, hungry appearance. "You've done well, Watters. You've saved a ship of the fleet. Capt. Ramirez was wise to put his faith in you. I'm sending over my chief engineer to assist you."

And possibly a few others, just to make sure that cadet excitement didn't override good sense.

"It needs to be taken offline," Barclay said after just a moment of looking. He gestured to the three cadets that had assumed the engineering duties. "You did the right thing by restricting the ship from warp." He started to describe exactly what was wrong, and Kara began to tune it out. She understood the basics of warp theory, that had been one of the first courses that New Atlanteans were offered. She was more interested in the overall ship. Valiant was a _Defiant_ class like Surprise but it lacked the modifications for FTL travel. She was old school from a technological standpoint, she preferred FTL. The colonies had used it for hundreds of years. It was sturdy. It had limitations. A jump was instant, but distance was still an issue. And warp could go faster. Over short distances and known space, FTL drives were, at least until the war began, beginning to catch on in a number of systems as reliable transport that didn't need to be constantly fussed over. Warp drive engines were much more delicate, but she could see where they were better for longer range trips. There was no such thing as a blind jump with warp transit. It was a safer way to travel if you were exploring.

The important thing was that it was faster. She let her hand rest on the computer. She didn't have Gaeta's gift, at least not in the controllable way that he had, but since the jump with the Galactica, she had noticed that what she had more… intuitive feelings about ships. Galactica was the old man's, it accepted her and she suspected that when Bill Adama officially handed over the reins, its affection would transfer to her. Surprise in contrast seemed to merely tolerate her. It was Gaeta's ship, it had a master and just didn't want her. Valiant, in contrast, felt like a trembling racehorse that desperately wanted to run and had no idea why it couldn't. _We'll get you fixed_, she thought at it, and she could feel a sort of frission of electricity as though the ship suddenly relaxed, like it knew it was finally in good hands.

Idiot cadets, she thought again. Oh she understood it, she understood it all too well. Red Squad was apparently some sort of elite cadet formation. She'd never qualified for any such group when she had been at the Caprican Military Academy. The elite groupings had been for the rich sons and daughters of the high society sorts that demanded their children have status due to their family connections. She knew Starfleet Academy was different, that the different cadet specialty groupings were more merit based and that Red Squad was touted as some sort of "best of the best" honor. She didn't care. It was good, lucky for all concerned, that they weren't the dregs of the school, but she firmly believed something one of her flight instructors had told her after she was passed over for a spot on the Caprican Academy Acrobatic Flyers. No one, the veteran of the Cylon war had told her, gave a frak in the fleet about what stupid cadet honors anyone earned. She had assumed the older man was patronizing her until her first assignment, where the pampered star cadet of the famous Caprican family bounced a landing so hard, he broke his legs and the deck and the commander of the Tiburion had personally walked down to the deck to let the idiot know that his last name wasn't an excuse for failure. Starfleet wasn't *that* different. Once cadets moved from school to the real world, the cadet ranking mattered a lot less.

She turned to Reg. "I can see you have the problem handled, Maddog. The Galactica has the replicators available to make the parts we'll need." The cadets looked at her quizzically.

Reg smiled at the nickname and thought about it for just a moment and then sighed. "It's too bad this ship won't fit in the landing bays. We'll have to suit up for some of it."

"At least we can use the Galactica as a repair platform," she said easily as she made her way to the lift. She was just glad for a change that she wasn't on the Galactica. The Admiral was not going to like the plan to land the Valiant on the Galactica's stern and secure it for repairs, and she was certain he wasn't going to like a passel of pampered arrogant cadets being dumped into his crew quarters. She was just glad that Gaeta had taken that task.

Besides, she thought as the lift took her up to the command deck, it wouldn't be that many cadets at all. The Valiant could be repaired. That meant another shifting of personnel. Some of the cadets would need to go to the Surprise to replace the officers that Gaeta would have to shift over to the Valiant. They had the remnants of the Jedikiah's crew, that would help since it had been mostly engineering people that had survived but there would need to be reassignments.

I want this ship, she thought suddenly. She could almost feel the ship respond, putting more spring into her step as she walked onto the Valiant's bridge. "Hail Surprise," she said to the cadet sitting at the comm station. Gaeta's face popped onto the view screen. He looked like he had been dealing with the Admiral, his expression was tight. "Sir, the Valiant will need to have the warp engine shut down for repair. Do we have permission to dock with Galactica?"

Gaeta nodded. "The Admiral has agreed to the temporary measure. He stressed to me very clearly how temporary of a measure he wants this to be… What did Barclay say about that?"

He was more worried than he wanted the crew to know. Worried that the Valiant couldn't be secured to the Galactica, that was her sense. The Admiral wasn't happy about it, there were a lot of practical reasons why latching something as big as the Valiant onto the stern was a potentially bad idea, but he hadn't said no. And Gaeta knew Adama wouldn't say no, at least until it was certain Valiant couldn't be repaired. Gaeta was worried that they would have to abandon the ship. She was glad to have good news. "It's lucky the Admiral is going to let us hitch a ride, but it's fixable as long as the replicators can handle the parts we need. It might take a day or two at most, and most of that will be with the warp core cold so if the Galactica needs to jump, we can hop a ride." She was less certain about whether a running warp drive would interfere with a jump but if they were lucky it wouldn't need to be tested.

Gaeta visibly relaxed. The cadets on deck noticed it as well. You need to be more careful, Kara thought, although she knew he couldn't hear her. Cadets, especially snobby elite cadets, needed more bucking up, and the senior officer in charge revealing his worry, real as it was, just made them more nervous. "I have go ahead from the Admiral then?"

"Yes." Gaeta smiled. "He also said to remember that the Galactica just went through an extensive refit and if you so much as scratch the new paint, he'll have your ass in the brig."

She saw the humor. "That's very easy for him to say considering I've been seconded to Starfleet for the duration. Has my favorite cell been reserved?"

Gaeta shrugged. "I had to make concessions in order to get permission to use the Galactica as 'Starfleet's floating chop shop', as the Admiral put it. So yes, he can now put you on report. So don't bounce the landing."

"I *never* bounce landings… sir." It was teasing, but not the sort she'd take from one Felix Gaeta.

"Good. When you're done, get the crew off loaded to the Galactica and join the Admiral and I in the Galactica conference room." He leaned back in his chair. "With an extra ship and so many cadets, I'll need to reassign some people." He smiled again. "This won't take you long, I trust?"

She bit her tongue. Odds were that she would getting the command of Valiant, there just weren't enough ranking officers, and Gaeta was needling her to test her temper. Or he was just being an ass. "The more we talk, the less gets done, sir. I'll have it on deck in five minutes. Securing it should take ten more minutes, and the lifts here are a little slow so I'll be seeing you in twenty, sir."

She cut off the transmission before he could react and jumped out of the command chair. "Out of that seat," she barked at the cadet. "I'm flying this." She put her hands on the console and smiled wickedly. _You're just like a viper, _she thought as the ship began to move under her direction, _only you're bigger, faster and have better guns. We're going to be good friends. _She pointed to the displaced cadet. "Get up in that chair, "she pointed to the command seat, "and relay my instructions, is that understood?" The cadet nodded and took position. Kara flicked on the loudspeaker. "Valiant crew, listen up. This is Cmdr Thrace and we are about to hard dock with Galactica. Sit down, keep alert, and enjoy the ride."


	21. Chapter 21

The tunnel was dank and it smelled like sewage. It reminded her of being stuck on sanitation duty on the Galactica. It was one of the standard dirty jobs that the marines usually got stuck with, but Dee had earned a few punishment shifts from the head watch officer to know the smell. Betazed shit stank like human shit, and judging by the pinched faces and gagging sounds, the patrol she was leading had not taken her warning seriously.

"This isn't a frakking game," she whispered to the four of them. They were all younger than her, two interns from the Ambassador's staff, an art student, and one of the intern's younger brothers.

_You shouldn't speak, _popped into her mind. Dee glared at the one who did it, the female intern. She wasn't a telepath, but she was sensitive enough, thanks to Palamas genes and years of dealing with Felix's family, that she could receive thoughts forced at her. She didn't like it, it reminded her of Felix and that fact that she was alone.

"I wouldn't have to speak," she whispered to them, "if you would remember to pick up your feet and get over the gods damned smell. Did you think we were going to a frakking dance? Be quiet!" The meeting was important and if they got caught by one of the Jem'hader patrols, they'd be killed. If they were lucky. The resistance needed weapons, and while Luxwanna had an amazing horde of valuables to trade with, finding people with weapons willing to trade was difficult. They had heard about a black market being run by a band of religious zealots, the Preacher's Children. The Betazed people weren't religious, not in the same way that her people were, but in an odd way it was nice to know that they were as prone to faddish cults as humans were.

The Preacher was rumored to have supplies. She and Helo both had doubted that meant weapons of any real quanity, and Luxwanna had agreed, but the Children had staged some attacks that suggested that they had weapons to spare. One attack, on the other side of the planet, had destroyed a major dilithium processing area. It was clever and impressive, more so because the Children had managed to fade out afterward without getting themselves caught. Troi's resistance group had scored some major accomplishments of it's own of course, saving the ruling council and consistently denying the Dominion the ability to state that Betazed was completely pacified, but in order to get Betazed back into the fight, the spaceports had to be liberated. That was going to require more weapons than they currently had. More people too, and that was why she was leading a scout team through a sewer line to the abandoned underground subway that the Children were rumored to congregate. She had a bad feeling that they weren't going to find anything but she kept that to herself.

_The Preacher will be there._ She whirled on the young teenager who had thought at her.

_STOP IT YOU'RE DISTRACTING ME! _She didn't care that the kid flinched. She wasn't a telepath but she did have Palamas genes, and years of living with Felix's family and Felix himself had taught her a few tricks. Betazoids tended to be arrogant with their telepathy. It got annoying. On the one hand, it had been lucky indeed that they had ended up on one of the few planets where humans didn't look different. She and Helo and the children were able to pass as natives. The non Betazed appearing aliens couldn't hide from the Jem'hader and had been rounded up for the most part. No one knew what had happened to them, nothing good she assumed.

She shoved the thoughts aside as they came up upon a man standing guard at a rusty hatch. He didn't raise his weapon. At first she thought it was sloppy and then as he smiled, she remembered once again that she wasn't a telepath. The man, he looked like a middle aged accountant, which made the weapon he was holding look almost hilarious. He nodded to them and stepped aside, allowing them to pass.

The underground subway station was exactly what she expected, a rusty, abandoned ruin with people littered about, displaying goods. It was quieter than a similar grouping of humans would have been, but familiar. "I'm here to see the Preacher," she said.

"We know," one of the women said. She shrugged. "The question is whether the Preacher wants to see you."

"We just spent two hours crawling through a sewer." Dee let her anger show in her tone. "Perhaps someone could ask him? We'll wait."

She could tell that she was irritating the woman. *WE'LL WAIT* she thought at her companions. She was pleased that the three came up beside her and stood, as if at attention. They were making the traders nervous, which was her intent. It was a black market first, after all. She'd studied the attacks that were attributed to the Preacher's Children. Clever tactics had been used, and more importantly, there had been goods taken. Goods like the weapons she wanted and if the Children were more focused on profit than politics, then she was interrupting the business of the day.

Sure enough, within minutes, another woman entered the large open area. She was dressed in attractive, colorful robes. Like a temple priestess, she thought suddenly, although the colors were different and lacked the cues and decorations she had learned as a child as a way to tell who ranked who in the temple. It struck her, it niggled at her brain and made her alert and she didn't dismiss the concern as the woman walked up to her.

"The Preacher will see you. Not them," she said, nodding to her escort. "They can wait here. Come with me."

It wasn't an unreasonable or unexpected request. She'd already discussed the possibility with her team and they knew what to do. "Let's go," she said to the woman. She put up her mental walls, the way Felix's sister Julia had taught her once it was understood that she had enough of the Palamas genes herself to be uncomfortable with telepathy. The woman didn't seem to notice. Betazeds usually didn't unless they were particularly sensitive. Luxwana, who was particularly sensitive, Dee had discovered, thought it was due in part to the average Betazed not expecting a human to be sensitive and partly because humans were simply different.

"The Preacher is not normally here," the woman said, as she led Dee through the darkened tunnels. "He knew you were coming. He saw it."

Lovely, Dee thought. Another leader that has visions. She still wasn't convinced that Laura Roslin had received visions from the gods. It was equally likely that she had hallucinated the Twelve Serpents of Pythia due to her medication and there was no doubt that her later pronouncements had come from Felix's secret manipulation of her. Roslin insisted her initial visions were genuine and that she had believed the gods brought Felix to her to save them. Dee was just glad the woman had toned it down. The Felix Apollo worshippers were bad enough.

The woman stopped in front of another hatch. "He's inside. May his truth enlighten you."

Dee opened the hatch and stepped inside. The room was small, and lit with candles. It looked more like a bordello, but a lot of Betazed decorating reminded her of a bordello. A man was sitting in a chair, his face turned away, and when he rose and faced her, she was shocked. "Gaius Frakking Baltar!"

Baltar looked at her and crossed his arms. "Anastasia Frakking Dualla! Oh forgive me, isn't it Anastasia Frakking Gaeta now?" He picked up a bottle and began pouring two glasses. He laughed. "Yes, that's a pun, isn't it? I mean, you are still frakking Felix aren't you?" He held out a glass to her.

She didn't take it. "How the hell are you here?"

He shrugged casually. "I see time has not enhanced your analytical skills by any significant means." He sipped his own drink and leaned against the small, fabric colored table that was in the center of the room. "How am I here? I've been on Betazed since President Roslin handed me over to Federation mental health specialists. Specifically I have spent the last five years interred in an extremely pleasant residential facility. I must admit, even now I miss the lovely custom of having an afternoon massage and a pleasant snack after my grueling hour of talk therapy. You know, I was even allowed to restart some of my old research? Really, when this is all over, I will have to thank President Roslin and explain in detail just how this all was delightfully pleasant." He smiled and sipped his drink. "That is, of course, if there's anything left of the Federation after this war. I presume that is why you're here?"

She couldn't resist. "Your vision didn't tell you why I was coming? What the hell is that about? Calling yourself the Preacher? Weren't you the one who thought the whole idea of President Roslin having visions was nonsense?"

"It *was* nonsense, Dualla." Baltar swirled his drink, his expression amused. "Come now, I know Felix is your husband now, you surely know by now that he was the source of Roslin's visions."

"The later visions," Dee said after a moment. She had her doubts about why Roslin had visions but she did believe that Laura Roslin certainly believed the gods had spoken to her. "And she believed the gods were speaking through Felix up until we met up with the Enterprise." She suspected that deep down, Laura Roslin's beliefs were somewhat in step with the Felix Apollo worshippers. Roslin had always had that touch of fanaticism, and it hadn't gone away with time. "How did you know about that?"

He smirked at her in that condescending way he'd always had. "You certainly aren't challenged by ideas, are you? Dee… I can call you Dee, can't I? I'm here because Laura Roslin and various Starfleet officials know that I know that your husband is guilty of violating Federation law. They destroyed the evidence and they silenced me by claiming I was mentally ill."

It was that snotty arrogant tone he had always used that made her clench the rifle she was holding. "Yes, I'm aware of that and how Felix almost went to prison for saving our lives. And how you were involved in that."

"And if you had been my judge, I would have been pitched out the air lock, yes. Which considering our current situation, makes it all the better that you were never allowed to make command decisions." He took a seat and gestured for her to do the same. "I knew you'd eventually come. You are with the resistance, of course? Looking for weapons and resupply and perhaps intelligence? My new worshippers… they believe I talk to God, you know, they come from all walks of life and position here."

This is about the mission, she told herself as she sat down at the table to begin the parlay. When this war is done, and Betazed is freed, then I will see to it that this monster is dead.

"She was thinking of killing you the entire time," Six said. She smirked as she got down on her knees.

"Of course she was," Baltar agreed. "And she has every right. I destroyed the colonies, I surrendered New Caprica without a protest, and I tried to blackmail her husband in a selfish attempt to avoid my responsibilities." He leaned back in the chair as Six undid his pants. "To her I am a monster." 

"You'll help her and then once these people are free, she will kill you, Gaius. She won't care that you want redemption. She won't care if you actually earn redemption. They will never forgive, Gaius, don't you see that?"

"I do," he said after a long moment. Should I argue with her, he wondered. She was separate from him, not a ghost or a manifestation of his guilt. Without the medication, she came more often, was more distracting. It was inevitable, and it seemed unwise to look for hard to find meds when there were more important needs. He looked down at Six and wondered if she would ever understand. If she could understand. It was important that she agreed with him. Without the medication, they were two people sharing one body. He had control, he'd always had control even before the medication, but with the lengthy talks with counselors he had come the realization that Six was capable, if she wished, of assuming control. It was fortunate, he supposed, that he wasn't interested in martyring himself. He wanted redemption, he craved it, but he also craved staying alive. Life was the ultimate victory and he had no intention of dying for any cause. "I have no intention of dying."

It was always wise to reassure Six on that point. It helped that it was true. "I will help her, because the Dominion is much worse than anything the Cylons thought up. I will help the people of Betazed because, considering what I have done, they have been remarkably kind. Lt. Dualla being a bitch of the nth order is not a factor. Redemption is not forgiveness. Did you know there's over 36 billion people who consider themselves citizens of this world?" It was more than the Twelve Colonies, and if he saved them… then he was redeemed. Not in the eyes of the colonials, he wasn't fool enough to think they'd even care. He wasn't even sure why he cared. His mandated therapist had decided years ago that there was no real progress to be made, he was a narcissist along with having a form of incurable split personality. The nanites that housed Six's personality couldn't be destroyed without killing him, and apparently narcissism was a personality disorder that resisted treatment. The mental health facility wasn't a horror show, he hadn't been lying to Dualla about it. He had private quarters, he had his work, there was entertainment and he could go anywhere on the grounds he wished. But he couldn't leave without a monitoring device, or without first asking permission, and there was daily medication and that was the way it would always be for him. Until the Jem'hader had come.

Redemption, he thought as Six returned to her task below his waist, was within his grasp at last. If he wanted it. That, he supposed as he succumbed to Six's attentions once again, was the real question.


	22. Chapter 22

Tigh looked at the medical report and considered his next step. Galen Tyrol was infested with nanites. He was as infested as a typical Cylon. Under the definition of what constituted a Cylon, physically Chief Galen Tyrol was one. There was no alternate explanation. Federation technology did use nanites but the design was different and Tigh had made sure to pull all the records to be certain. Not that there were many. Tyrol was a healthy man and he'd avoided medical care since the colony was established. He had never been scanned by a Federation medical scanner until his recent breakdown on the basestar. It wasn't unusual for a colonial to not be scanned. It was, he realized as he looked through the paperwork, almost a comedy of errors, exactly the sort of chain of events that he suspected had led to the destruction of the colonies to begin with.

When the colony on New Atlantis first started, almost all of the medical staff were Federation relief officers. They had been glad to get the help, that was the truth, and the Federation volunteers being there had allowed Cottle and the rest of the medical staff to attend medical classes that brought their skills up to date. The problem of course was that the Federation had never considers Cylons to be a serious threat. That mindset meant that they didn't look for nanites and if they found them, they wouldn't be concerned about it. And Cottle and his staff were infected with the Federation liberalism towards Cylons, that was no surprise to him at all. Medical people, even military medical people, tended to be soft.

At one point, during the first year of the colony's establishment, the opposition party that revolved around Tom Zarek had demanded that the entire population be scanned. Not for Cylon nanites, but for Palamas indicators. Roslin had put the kibosh on that. He hadn't paid much attention at the time but her concern was that if people knew who did and didn't have Palamas indicators, that with a generation or two, they'd create a lower caste. She raised the point that the Federation wasn't likely to approve of such a plan and with so many other things a concern, the idea of scanning the entire population had quieted down. It would come back, people had already been grumbling about wanting to know. On the other people, there were plenty of people who appreciated Roslin's point. It had gotten around that people who had Palamas indicators generally enjoyed transporting, but it wasn't fool proof. It meant that some people already knew they were in the have not group.

It made his head ache worse because if he called for mass testing of the population, a significant portion of the population was paranoid on the topic. Roslin would demand to know why, and he would have to tell her. And despite her recent liberalism concerning the children of the Cylons, he knew exactly what Laura Roslin would do with the knowledge that there were secret Cylons among the colonists. She would have everyone tested and then arrested, and locked up until Bill Adama came back.

The problem with that was that he was certain that he was a hidden Cylon. And he wanted a drink so badly, it was tempting to simply call Laura Roslin and tell her, and let the situation explode exactly the way he knew it would. He set down the padd he was reading and stood up. The real problem was that he couldn't do it, he couldn't commit the act that would remove himself from the mess. Bill Adama had made him the commander with the knowledge that there was no one else that could keep the peace. He'd be damned if he broke Bill's trust. At the same time he had to do something. Whatever Galen had seen, he had a bad feeling that if he ignored it, he would be making things much worse.

It was time to go with his gut. That was why he strode into the command center of the base star and pointed at his first officer. "Colonel Three, I'd like a word. In private."

She nodded and gave one of the Twos a look. Part of him hated knowing that she'd handed the deck off to the next ranking officer. Her eyes sparkled as he led her into the corridor. "How private does this need to be?"

"Very."

"Then let's use my quarters." She led him through the corridors to a door. Her quarters weren't as cold as he expected. The base star was austere but Three had pictures on the wall and a desk that held a pile of paperwork. "Please, take a seat, sir."

He did, at the desk, and she pulled up the spare chair to be close to him. He looked nervously at the pictures she had framed. Most were of her and an Eight, and a child that was apparently a boy. One photo had a cheerful caption – Mama, Motoko and Me at Our House. It was the same sort of house that had been common on Caprica although he was certain it was from their colony. "I didn't know you had a wife and child, Three."

"Jesse and I were a good team before the change, as we call it, and Ethan makes us whole." A surprisingly fond look crossed her face. "They're on New Atlantis. Ethan seems to like it there, at least." Her expression became a mask. "What do you want to discuss, Commander?"

"What does it mean to you, look at the places that aren't there?" He couldn't shake the suspicion it was some sort of Cylon reference.

She looked at him intently. Finally she said, "To me, that means to look at the places inside myself, at the things I should remember but don't. I saw the Temple, and that memory was taken from me, from all of my sisters. But… I don't think that's what Chief Tyrol meant."

"This isn't about Chief Tyrol." He knew that was the truth, just as he knew he was a Cylon.

Three looked at him, her expression concerned. Finally she said, "The memories from the temple were taken from my line. It was part of the agreement on reawakening us. I can't answer the question you want to ask. I don't know if you're a Cylon." She smiled slightly, and now she did look amused. "I see your problem. The obvious option has to have occurred to you. You could simply have our doctor scan you and then order him silent if you don't like the answer you get. Why not do that?"

"It wouldn't stay secret," Tigh said after a moment. "It's not just a matter of not trusting the medical staff to keep their mouths shut," although he was quite certain that Cylon and human medical staff both had the gossip trait bred in.

Three nodded. "It's a problem of command. President Roslin is not our friend. She would insist you be replaced and replaced with a human and there's really no one to pull. No one that would be respected and of course it would be an insult to us, and we have put up with a number of insults already." She stated it matter of factly. "And you can't put your hand in the stream."

"Why not?" He wasn't planning to. Tyrol had been functioning before, and now he was a mental wreck, and Saul knew he couldn't risk that sort of reaction. He was curious what Three's reasoning was.

"It seems to have caused a mental breakdown in Chief Tyrol and you can't afford that. And you knew that." Three seemed amused. "What you don't know is that we all knew when Tyrol put his hand in."

That got his attention. "And you didn't tell me? What the frak were you thinking?"

"That he'd be scanned and you'd confirm the scans. And once you confirmed it, you would be honor bound to report it to President Roslin. The Earthers have a term for what happens next. A witch hunt." She looked over at the pictures of her wife and child. "For the record, in case you didn't know, your Cylon soldiers appreciate your discretion in this matter. Just remember, until you're ready to confirm the thoughts you're thinking, don't put your hand in the stream." Three paused, lost in thought. "My original point was that just because Galen Tyrol is a Cylon, that doesn't mean that what he said is some sort of . Cylon code. He said it to you, he obviously thought it would mean something to you. The places that aren't there…. What does that mean to you?"

Saul considered it carefully. An idea niggled at him. "On the Galactica, when we were running… Tyrol came to me, one time, with a problem. He was trying to reroute some wiring and every time they ran the lines they kept running into blockages that weren't on the plans…"

"Why would he come to you with that?" It surprised him that Three was genuinely curious.

"It might be hard to believe," Saul said, letting a note of wry amusement enter his voice, "but when I was a young man I studied ship design. I'm not going to frakking lie and say it took, but it did make me one of the only people in the fleet who knew how to read the frakking blue prints. And the blue prints said he should've been able to run his frakking wires, so I pulled the original blueprints." And then the idea blossomed. "There was just empty space on the current blue prints but originally… there had been a room. Someone during a refit had just walled it up and sealed it. It was a full machine shop, stuff from the first war…" His own guess had been that it had been blocked off originally due to battle damage, it was easier to close off areas to stop fires, and then as the first war progressed, people just forgot that it was there. "It happens sometimes, on ships. We found a space during the last refit that someone had been using as their personal love nest." He shrugged. "It's… a place that wasn't there, but at the end of the day, it was just an old room filled with outdated equipment."

After a long moment, Three smiled. "Sometimes you're not very willing to see what's in front of you, sir. That is definitely the trait of a Cylon. Did it ever occur to you that this basestar might have similar places… places that aren't there?"

"You did a massive refit. The same kind of refit we did on the Galactica." He could see where she was going but… "After the refit, there are no mystery spots on the Galactica anymore."

"But you don't understand. Our memories were controlled by the Centurions. If they didn't want us to know something, they took the memory away. I know you're not fond of Cylon psychology, but understand… There are those among us who believe that the residual memories of the Five are our humanity expressing itself the only way it could at the time. There are also those of us who believe that the Five weren't able to be misled and that is why they were erased from our memories." She took a deep breath and let it out. "You don't know how hard it is to even have this discussion. We're restricted from knowing. Things could have happened on this basestar and we never would have noticed. We wouldn't have been allowed to notice."

"But the Centurions are gone," Tigh said after a moment.

"The commands remain. In a way, that's good for you." Three picked up a padd off of her desk and tapped out some commands. "Here are the post refit plans for the basestar. You aren't constrained the way we are. I have a suspicion that if you look hard enough on this ship, you'll find something. It's not like we can hide what we're not allowed to know. This is a big ship. You downplay it, Commander, but you're a clever man. If there's something hidden here, you'll find it."

He took the padd. There was a secret inside the basestar. He was more certain of that than ever, and it wasn't just the dawning realization that he himself was a Cylon.


	23. Chapter 23

Kara smiled with pleasure as the Valiant swooped in for the kill. Easy pickings, she thought as the Cardassian ship exploded. A good test, despite being unplanned. It had taken two weeks, a week longer than anyone had expected to get the ship back to running order. Barclay had already told her it was lucky the cadets had been smart enough to realize they couldn't fix it themselves. Warp drives were fast, and the Defiant class design made them almost too fast, but they required a level of fussy maintenance that was irritating. It was a difference in scientific direction. Warp was a long distance tool. In the colonies, the early exploration had always shown that habitable worlds were incredibly rare. Too rare to expend a lot of resources on developing long distance drives. She was certain there was someone in the Federation writing an interesting paper on how the colonial jump drive reflected their isolated nature. Lee's wife Serena often went on about the topic. Serena was perfect for Lee in a lot of ways, Lee liked to talk things to death too.

She got up from the navigation station, graceful still. She didn't look different, not yet. If she had been stuck with one of the older Starfleet uniforms, she would have turned down the job since walking around in a skintight yellow jumpsuit pregnant would have made her look like a giant pumpkin. It was lucky she wasn't having twins, she decided as she reclaimed her command seat. She was, according to Cottle, one of the lucky ones, a woman that felt invigorated by pregnancy but the last few weeks with the twins had made her feel miserable and slow. Also normal, Cottle had said, some sort of instinctive response, but normal or not, she was already dreading the end. Especially since the war was unlikely to be over by the time of the birth. "Transmit our success to Surprise and Galactica."

The communications officer, a newly commissioned cadet, jumped to fulfill her orders. One of the good ones, Kara thought. She had gotten about five of the cadets and the remains of the Jedikiah's engineering crew. Between them and the survivors from other ships that the Galactica had picked up, she hadn't needed to swipe many of Surprise's people, or keep too many of the cadets. Gaeta had kept a few as well, but they were in the pleasant position of having too many people and not enough jobs. Admiral Adama had room but she didn't envy any of the cadets and randomly rescued Starfleet personnel that were stuck catching a ride there. The Admiral didn't always have a lot of patience for the Starfleet mindset to begin with and some of the cadets were so thoroughly obnoxious and arrogant to a fault, she could already foresee the problems. The kids **were** brilliant, she couldn't argue that, but most had such an inflated sense of their own importance, they were difficult to be around. The ones assigned to her ship had been told in blunt terms that she didn't care in the slightest that they had been in the vaunted Red squadron. Most took it well enough but getting the cadets out of their mindset was a pain in the ass. A flaw in the squadron system she had no intention of replicating when she assumed control of the New Atlantis military. She was certain Gaeta had a crisply worded report planned for Starfleet as well.

If there was a Starfleet to go back to. It was concerning, how they weren't finding any sign of Starfleet. It could be that they were regrouping, one of the realities of the United Federation was that it was unimaginably huge in comparison to the world she grew up in. They had been patrolling for close to a month, sweeping the sector for the Dominion com dampeners and getting into period scraps with Dominion and Cardassian ships. They were winning the fights they got into, but so far, they hadn't found any other Starfleet vessels that hadn't been torn apart. She didn't like that one bit. The Galactica was one hell of a weaponized battle platform once Federation weapons were added, and Surprise and Valiant would certainly fortify the base star and the older ships they'd left to defend the home system but she wasn't a fool. New Atlantis was a low priority target for any invasion force. So was Cylonia, but the Cylon colony had the bad luck to be in between the wormhole at Deep Space Nine and the more populated areas of the Federation. If the worst happened, and they had to pull back to the New Atlantis system, it wasn't as though they could hold off the Dominion with what they had. No, that particular endgame meant more running. And at the end of the day, she was realistic enough about how lucky they had really been to know that a third exodus, with Dominion ships and allies chasing them, would make the second exodus look like a cake walk.

So the best thing to hope for was that Starfleet wasn't toast and that the colonial fleet was simply in the area that Starfleet had decided not to focus on. That was how Gaeta phrased it when they discussed the lack of intact Starfleet ships across the sector. It had been funny, Gaeta had obviously been choosing his words carefully since there had been a few of the cadets at the meeting.

Gaeta was another problem. Not a serious one, not yet, but it was building. She understood some of his dour expressions and increasingly worried looks. Things were bad, she wasn't an optimist when it came to war, but while she might consider the worst case scenario, she didn't dwell on it. It could happen that they would need to retreat. It would hurt, but the idea didn't consume her. She understood, more than she suspected that Gaeta even realized, why he was looking increasingly drawn and stressed. If things turned as badly as they could, she would be going home, grabbing her loved ones, and running. Felix Gaeta would be retreating from his home, and leaving his wife and children behind to a fate much worse than anything they had faced on New Caprica. Made worse for him that if they were successful, he was looking at a possible court martial for handing over weapons access. She doubted that Starfleet was actually that petty minded.

She hoped anyway, and there was no doubt that Gaeta had concerns as well. Felix Gaeta was a man who worried about things even when they were good. That wasn't a bad thing, she had come to accept it, mostly because she was starting to see how useful it was to have someone on the crew who worried. The problem was that for all of his incredible ability tol ie and fly under the dradis as a Starfleet officer in the colonial fleet, he was the kind of man who let his worry show on his face. That meant she knew he was worried and likely most of his crew knew as well. A problem in that his crew was looking to him to set the tone and he was looking increasingly upset.

It would be good to contact Starfleet, she thought. She almost laughed at the idea and covered it with a grin. Ironic, she currently was Starfleet as far as her crew was concerned, and Kara was honest enough to admit that she was more than a little amused at that turn of events. She followed Bill Adama's view on Starfleet. Good people, generous to a fault but also naive to a fault and prone to trusting when they should be suspicious. And of course, prone talking themselves to death until a war happened and they were taken by surprise. However, finding a ship of the fleet that had actually been in contact with Starfleet command would ease a lot of the tension that was rising. Not knowing what was happening was maddening and an entirely new experience for the Starfleeters. Making contact would calm them down.

And there I go, she thought as she leaned back seat in the command chair, acting like a commander instead of a pilot. She was starting to understand what Adama meant, that command could be as fulfilling as piloting a Viper. She suspected it was easier to be in command of a sleek fighting ship like the Valiant. It wasn't like the Galactica, that was for sure.

That thought left her as the sensors began to wail the announcement of a new ship in the sector. "What is it," she asked the young ex-cadet monitoring the sensors.

The woman, Alice Fetters, one of the less obnoxious members of the now disbanded Red squad, smiled. "It's a ship! Scanners indicate that it's the Defiant.

Kara nodded. She had heard of the Defiant. "Unless I've been reading the map wrong, the Defiant is a bit far away from home." Assigned to Deep Space Nine, which was right next to the damn wormhole that had the Dominion and Jem'hader bastards pouring out. "Hail them, Ms. Fetters."

The viewer flashed and in seconds she was looking at a dark skinned man wearing the Starfleet station uniform. "I am Captain Sisko of the USS Defiant. Who are you?" His tone was cold but she wasn't surprised. The Valiant's captain was supposed to be an older human male, not a pregnant woman with commander pins. A good leader would want to know what happened.

"I am acting Captain Kara Thrace. I was brevetted to this position by acting Captain Felix Gaeta of the USS Surprise." Gaeta had made sure that she knew the terminology to use.

Sisko eyed her but didn't seem upset. A good sign, in her opinion. It was fair to ask how she had gotten command and it didn't escape her that the officer in the background was already checking their databases, but at the end of the day, the story was pretty basic. Sisko shrugged it off after a moment. "I hope that means that the Surprise is still with us."

"It does. I don't suppose you've heard from Starfleet have you? Because we haven't." She didn't see any point in mincing words. There was a war on after all. "And aren't you normally assigned to Deep Space Nine?"

Sisko smiled thinly. She didn't feel a threat, but she got the sense that there was a rod of steel in the man's back that he wouldn't hesitate to use. One of the good ones, she thought with no small amount of pleasure. Gaeta wouldn't mind ceding command to someone senior, he didn't really have a choice, but Bill Adama would bristle if that officer didn't meet a certain standard. Sisko had a good feel about him. It boded well for a change.


End file.
